


The Whole World - Across the Globe

by 8hephaestion8



Series: The World [4]
Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017), Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF, Call Me By Your Name - All Media Types, Call Me by Your Name - André Aciman
Genre: Anal Sex, Australia, Blow Jobs, Boyfriends, Flirting, Flying, Kissing, Los Angeles, M/M, Melbourne, Oral Sex, Sex Play, Smut, Sydney - Freeform, This is fiction., pilot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2019-11-14 03:31:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 99,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18044624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/8hephaestion8/pseuds/8hephaestion8
Summary: Armie is a pilot with Virgin Australia.  Timothee is cabin crew.  They meet.  There is smut, but not to start with. That is all.It is fiction.





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> This is fiction, I do not know them and as far as I know Armie has never flown a plane.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone is late, Armie is not happy. When the latecomer arrives, he is pleasantly surprised.
> 
> This is fiction, I do not know them and as far as I know Armie has never flown a plane.

Armie wasn’t here for this crap.  He had done all of the pre-flight checks and was now in the next phase which required cabin crew to be present for the final briefing.  They all needed to be there to be sure that any advance notice of critical factors like terrain, Melbourne airport characteristics, warnings or precautionary measures and reminders about what and who was expected on board were advised to all.  If the missing member of the crew did not turn up in the next five minutes the flight was going to be delayed.

‘Where is he?’

‘He’s just coming, there was an accident on the way and he got held up.  He won’t be more than another few moments.’

Chelsea, the Flight Purser led the cabin crew, Armie was Aircraft Commander and headed the whole team, he had three pilots to look after he didn’t want to have to start worrying about cabin crew as well.  Nate the Senior Flight Supervisor, piped up with: ‘Well at least we know he wasn’t held up by having a good time, he is such a goody goody’

Armie wondered what that meant.

‘Shut up, he’s a nice person, just because he doesn’t spend his time drinking and whoring around.’ Sylvie spoke up for the missing person, she was the mother hen person on board this trip, she did not take any nonsense from Nate and was always ready to put him in his place.  Anyone could go to her for advice, Armie himself had had quiet words with her about problems in his personal life, she did not judge and she offered objective advice.

Timothée walked through door.

‘I am so sorry.  There was a major crash ahead of me, three people died.  It was terrible, the cars were still on the road, a pile up of three cars all concertinaed up, I really don’t know how it happened there was good weather and it was clear, there wasn’t a lot of traffic, they were still cleaning up the road when I came through. I did leave in good time, I was held up by more than half an hour, I swear I had about an hour in hand, and then I didn’t… I am so sorry...sorry now I’m rambling.’  A shy laugh and he fell quiet.

Armie looked at the new person on the crew.  He hadn’t seen him before.  He knew Chelsea well, in fact very well, she ran a tight team, was well organised and a good judge of character.  If he was on her team he was good at his job, a team player and would be well liked.  He ignored Nate, Nate was good on board but a douche off.  He had no time for him but had to acknowledge that he was an effective team member and had the knack of being able to be both calm with aggressive passengers and give off an air of don’t fuck with me, which mean that he was in demand for long haul flights.  Passengers who were cooped up for a long time needed a mixture of soft touch and at other times a tough stance Nate could do both.  He looked around the team, he didn’t know half of them, some he had flown with a few times and three or four he knew well.  Chelsea, Nate, Sylvie and Paul were all well known, Alain he knew enough to be able to be comfortable holding a conversation.  He didn’t need to know the rest, these people lead sections of the plane, the other cabin crew members reported to them and he didn’t need to know them personally. Timothée he did not know at all, but he liked on the spot.  Pleasant, no good looking, tallish slim frame, unruly wavy chocolate coloured hair tamed with some kind of product – he had used too much, it had a dull shine and was still sticking up in places. And yet, despite giving off a distracted air, he was instantly likeable and in control, he knew what was what.  Armies’ type, when he wasn’t looking for a woman.  He obviously came recommended, he was leading the First-Class section, there was something soft about him but also an underlying surety of himself.  There was something else there too.

He caught himself.  It was time to give the briefing in conjunction with Air Traffic Control staff.  No time for daydreaming, he might find time during his rest period to get to speak with him.  He’d ask Chelsea to schedule Timothée’s rest period with his.  He tried to kid himself that it was just friendly engagement, but also immediately realised that there was something else there that he wanted to investigate.

They were flying to Australia, Los Angeles to Melbourne non-stop. 16 hours in the air. It was onerous but could be fun, he liked the challenge of getting everyone to their destination safely, he actually liked the responsibility and he liked people.  The job was perfect for him, no responsibilities at home, plenty at work.  He liked it and had no reason or desire to change it.  He had reached Aircraft Commander status fairly quickly. He worked hard, taking a degree in Aviation Technology and Pilot Studies, to help him progress faster, at San Jose; he was lucky he completed his degree and given ‘A’ grade at the same time that Delta was looking to take on and train young pilots, the USA had the oldest pilots in the world and Delta was at the top end of the US age range, 90% of their pilots were over 45.  He completed his training with them, spent six years getting basic flying training completed and the hours needed, and was then poached by Virgin Australia who sponsored him through the training he needed to fly in Australia.  He was lucky, they flew from New York and Los Angeles, he had apartments in Los Angeles and Sydney not large; kitchen/diners, a bedroom and ensuite bathroom, he didn’t need more, and they were not in the centre or high class areas.  He was lucky, he had come into some money and invested in property, he wasn’t rich – the salary compensated and he was comfortable. This suited him. He had been with Virgin for nearly six years, they liked him and tried him with the larger planes needed for long haul almost immediately.  He took to it like a duck to water, it seemed easier to fly the bigger planes than the short haul, and he met people who he could get on with; they were like minded, worked and played hard.

Armie was responsible at work but in his downtime he like to have fun.  He was 33, 34 was a month or so away.  He was not settled, he could hang with the younger pilots and with the older, he had something to offer both.  He did not keep his knowledge to himself, he helped train other pilots and the older pilots liked him and passed on tips to him. He had no problem getting flight crews to work with him and had a roster of six who he could depend on, but he did not mind working with people that he did not know, it was a factor of the work.

His manager had to warn him to keep it down at times, he would pass the regular health checks but on occasion it was a bare pass, not for drugs or drink but because he liked to operate at the margin when he wasn’t working.  He stayed up late, he ate more than he should and it had to be good food, he would travel miles to eat at a Michelin starred restaurant. He liked to have sex with men and women, and he liked to travel. He had to exercise to keep fit enough to fly.  Long haul suited because he got more time off than the short haul guys, and he used that time to enjoy himself.  He stopped sleeping with cabin crew after one of them started stalking him and blamed it on the fact that he was good in bed and was single, so what was the harm? He had to explain to the rostering team why he couldn’t be on a flight with this person, it did not go down well. Now he only slept with people who knew the score, people that hung around hotels, exclusive bars and clubs seeking a good time, and when suitable blind dates.  He knew at some point all of this would trip over into creepy behaviour, he had started to think that maybe it would be a good idea to get into some kind of regular arrangement, not commitment but understanding, a friends with benefits situation with an appropriate person, which probably meant a woman of around 30, a busy business executive type who also didn’t want to be tied down.  Once he thought about it, he wasn’t sure, he didn’t want restrict himself to one sex or one person, he thought of that type of person as sterile, cold and calculating.  It was troublesome but something he knew he had to fix. His parents would ask when he was going to give them grandchildren or if he even had someone in mind.  He fobbed them off, they barely asked now; at family gatherings he was beginning to be the odd person out.  Virtually all his peers had settled down in way or another and sexual fluidity wasn’t the problem, if anyone didn’t like it, they could fuck off.

 

The briefing was successful, no stupid questions were asked, and everything was on time.  The teams split into their constituent groups, the flight team went to the plane and straight to the cockpit.  Cabin crew began to prepare for the arrival of passengers, they had another 45 mins before the first passenger arrived.

Armie had already split up the jobs, Rob the 2nd pilot was to do the aircraft body checks to ensure the plane looked and was fit for flight; Drew double-checked the route and Stephen did the take-off routine.  Armie picked up everything else, he wasn’t going to handle the take-off, he would leave that to Stephen, he and Stephen would take the first shift and he would run everything else including communicating with ATC. They would work in four hour shifts, he would try to get Timothée’s rest period scheduled for his second rest period, there would less work for both of them in that period. It was more certain.  There was only one other thing to double-check, who needed to do a landing to maintain currency as it was called, he was up to date, he had just done a three leg trip.

He took a walk down the plane to talk with Chelsea, one last check with her and another chance to have a quick word with all the team leaders.

‘Hey Tim, can I call you Tim?’  He didn’t wait for a response. ‘We haven’t met, you know I am Armie, right?  Pleased to have you on board.  Just so you know I don’t mind visitors to the cockpit after the flight has completed, just ask Chelsea.   We can catch up later.  Have a good flight, hope the passengers are kind to you.’  He wandered off, Timothée hadn’t spoken just looked at him with wide hazel eyes that shone gold, green and blue as he turned away.  He wanted to turn back to check those eyes out but thought better, he was getting soft, chuckled to himself which caused Sylvie to look up from her checks on blankets and wink. 

‘He’s cute Armie, and he’s single.’

Armie smiled and walked on, he had things to do.  He turned back.

‘How old is he?’

Sylvie got conspiratorial with him.

‘I don’t know, do you want me to have “a chat”? I can do a bit of digging for you, if you want.  All I know is that he is nice.  Not very experienced in matters of love or sex. Don’t mess with him, leave him alone if all you want is a fuck.’

‘Sylvie! How do you know?’

‘I have my ways, and I am never wrong, am I?’

She was right, she had an unerring second sense about people, and could suss out what was going on in a few words or moments in your company.  Sylvie was nearly 40, she had two teenagers, the husband had left her for a younger version of herself, and tried to come back for seconds, he had been given short shrift.  She had many friends and many lovers, settling for her current live-in partner Alfie after a mere six months, she would recommend not wasting time.  Armie trusted her guidance it was based on wisdom and experience.

‘I’ll come and find you later.’

 

I saw how Armie looked at me, I would have trouble with him.  He wasn’t to know but I had no intention of starting any work-based romance. I also saw how Sylvie and he were on the same page, I liked her, but I couldn’t fall in with their plans.  I liked to keep myself to myself as far as work colleagues were concerned.  I watched her approach me, there would be some pretext or another, I had to be on my guard, I knew what was coming, I would know how best to deal with her when she spoke, I waited for her opening gambit.

‘Hi Tim, can I call you Tim?  We haven’t met formally, I have only heard great things about you, it’s good to get to work with you.’

‘Of course, Timothée is a bit of a mouthful.  What can I do for you?’

I caught a moment of hesitation, I had gone straight to a work-related theme I wasn’t giving her the chance to open up the conversation on a personal basis.

‘Nothing really, I was just wanting to have quick word to make sure you were OK and had found everything.  You’ll let me know if anything is missing or you need help.’

‘I thought I had to go through Chelsea?’

‘You do, but I am an old-hand, if you like you can ask me.’

She smiled, and waited for a response.  A discreet shimmer of expectation across her face. I didn’t give it to her.

‘OK, I’ll catch you later Tim.’

‘Later, Sylvie. Thanks for being so kind.’

Another look, and then she was gone.

 

‘That boy is sharp. He knows you want to fuck him.’

‘How do you know? What did you say to him?’

‘Nothing, I have to get back, I’ll catch up with you. You have the first break don’t you?’

‘Yes.  I have to get back. Later.’

Sylvie noticed they both used the same term, ‘Later’.  That boded well.

 

Five hours later the plane was settled and cruising, routines were running smoothly, lunch had been served it was time for in-flight entertainment, the crews could take breaks and have a rest.  Armie and Stephen left the other two to manage the flight deck.  They both went down to the gallery and got some food which was specially set aside for them - not the same as passengers or cabin crew, there was some fruit, pieces of roast chicken and slices of beef plus salad, they didn’t normally have a prepared meal.  Sylvie was waiting for him.

‘He’s busy, he’s got two newbies, I haven’t been able to get near.’

‘Don’t worry.  It is probably not a good idea to get off with a member of the crew.  I did it before, had a disastrous outcome and promised never again.  I shall keep to my word. What have you been up to?’

Armie and Sylvie went to sit in the seats reserved for crew in the upper part of the plane, they were secluded and could rest without being interrupted. When they got there one seat was already occupied, Timothée was resting there, his elbow falling off the arm rest, head nodding in repose and sleep as they got in.

‘Sorry, I’ll go to a bunk, I’m falling asleep, too much excitement this morning.’ He got up to leave. Sylvie halted him.

‘You don’t have to go.  Why not have a tea or coffee, I’ll fetch you something, what do you want?’

Timothée looked up at her, and gave in.

‘Just a sandwich and tea please, green tea.  Thanks. I really appreciate this.’

Armie was gentle in his approach.

‘It’s tough, getting to know your team especially when you don’t know anyone else.’

‘Yeah, but everybody had been so kind and helpful.  Even Nathan, I was warned off him by my friends but he has been very good with me.  I haven’t flown one of these flights before, I’ve done long haul before but not on one of these newer Boeing 7 series planes. It’s challenging, and that crash this morning has taken more out of me than I thought.’

‘Don’t worry, you are doing well…’

Before Armie could continue, Timothée got up.

‘Just going to the bathroom, won’t be long.’ 

He didn’t return.

In a way Armie didn’t mind.  There was plenty of time and, now he was intrigued.  He had been right, there was more to Timothée than met the eye and he wanted to find out exactly what it was that made him so clearly reticent to engage with his colleagues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The type of routines and description of layovers may be typical only on major airlines. Some pilots only get a day and night's rest before having to fly again, particularly for cut-price airlines or on internal flights - a plane on a runway is a plane not making money, what is described here is probably quite generous. Also Long Haul pilots also tend to get more 'time off' to recover than their short haul colleagues.


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Armie and Timothée start talking. Their reaction to each other is visceral.
> 
> This is fiction, I don't know them and as far as I know Armie has never flown a plane.

Timothée had disappeared off to a bunk, he was tired.  He did go to the bathroom but thought better of going back to the crew seats, he knew he couldn’t really avoid Armie.  Stand-offish, and he’d get a reputation for being unfriendly.  It wouldn’t help his career and he intended staying in the flight business.

As he was getting back to go the crew bunks, he crossed with Sylvie and spoke with her.

‘Can you tell Armie I am going to sleep, I don’t want him to think I’m avoiding him, thanks.’

‘But you are avoiding him Tim.’

Timothée looked directly at her.  Again he avoided responding to her. A faint smile and he passed her on his way to bed, or at least to lie down.  Now he was on edge, he would need more than a few moments to get off to sleep, and he definitely needed a nap.  His work was cut out as he had people on their first shifts in First Class, they were experienced but they needed his guidance on how to handle people who were used to excellent service and not shy to complain if the service did not come up to standard.  He hoped his second in command had everything under control.

‘I challenged him.’

‘What!’

‘I challenged him, I told him he was avoiding you.  He didn’t respond. So yeah, he likes you.’

‘I told you to leave it alone Sylvie.’

‘Yeah, I know. But it’s time you settled down, he’d be good for you.  He’s not showy and he can stand up for himself.  You need someone like him.  He’s discreet and he’s good with people.  You could do much worse.’

‘Fuck’s sake, I mean, leave it alone.’

 

In too short a time, Armie’s break was over.  He went back to the flight deck, took his turn at the controls and concentrated on just managing the flight.  It was easy, now he had something he really had to pay attention to.  All the flight crew were experienced and he trusted them, he could relax into his work.  He worked a twenty minutes on twenty minutes off schedule with Stephen, when he was not actively handling the flight he was monitoring the controls and panels and fully occupied. He avoided both Sylvie and Chelsea on his next break, and went to get a nap in the smaller of the crew areas, he knew that if anyone came into that space once they saw him there, they would leave.  He just wanted to concentrate of flying and sleeping, really Timothée did not mean that much to him and Sylvie was making too much of the whole situation.  He decided that in his off time he’d take a drive up to Sydney, he’d spend it fucking Frank, that was his go to guy in Sydney now, no strings and nothing long term, he’d met him a few months ago, they had had a couple of hook-ups and he enjoyed his company, that would sort his head out. Frank was versatile, they could swap roles, Armie liked to be dominated occasionally, which wasn’t easy as he was 6’ 5”.  Frank was not as tall he stood 6’ 2” but he was solid, and he could lift Armie, that was thrilling. 

Timothée’s slim frame came to mind, he was around 5’ 10” perhaps 5’ 11”, Armie imagined lifting him onto his dick, pushing down roughly, seated and squeezing; Armie’s hole was already pulsing, he saw himself holding onto that Chocolate hair with his cock in Timothée’s mouth, mouth sucking hard, tongue soft working with the mouth enclosing him, the dick down Timothée’s throat, his own dick was lengthening and gaining girth, skin beginning to get taut, the skin around his balls changing, his seam tingling and tightening.  Nobody was around, he took a chance and he undid his button and zip, pushed down trouser and boxers, his dick no longer flaccid hardened without any help, pre-come beading, the thrill of possibly being caught plus the thought of Timothée sitting on his dick contributed to his rising excitement, he started to stroke one out, hard fast strokes concentrating on the crown, fingers and thumb squeezing and rubbing up and down, he wanted to come quick, he was silent, made minimal noise, furtive but what he was doing would be very evident to anyone standing in the same area. He took off his undershirt, used that to receive his cum.  Relief. Nice. He lay there in recovery for a few moments, whilst he pulsed out the rest of the orgasm. It smelt a bit funky. He tidied himself and opened the curtain, used the air freshener that was always to hand in that area. He thought he heard something, but nobody was there. Body smells of different varieties were nearly always present in that small area. He used the neutralising freshener, it was a good one, which was just as well.  He went down to the crew’s lockers and bathroom underneath the bunks, he didn’t want to upset his crew either, changed underwear and had a thorough wash.  Everything OK, he left the bathroom and immediately ran into Timothée; despite having just come, his dick had other intentions and began to lengthen again, the rubbing from before, made him sensitive, creating a pleasant burning sensation, which was stimulating. Fuck, what was this?

‘Hi Tim, how are you?’

He was hiding his lower half, standing awkwardly. Timothée looked at him like he knew exactly what was happening.  This made it worse, he hardened further, fuck.

‘I’m OK, just taking my break.  Have you just finished yours?  Do you want to join me?  I was a bit rude earlier, sorry I was tired and not very good company.’

‘Want a coffee?’

‘Why don’t we share the space up there? We could have a chat.’

He looked at Armie, who by now was holding his dick close to his body through his pocket.  There was no way that Armie was going back into that double bunk space with him, the mats were side by side, they would have to face each other.

‘I’ve just been up and had a…nap, I’m ready for a hot drink, I only have about 15 minutes before I have to go back, I could stretch to 30, but even that would be taking liberties with the team.  Perhaps we could share a ride up to Sydney, are you up for that?

He thought he would try, nothing ventured, nothing gained.

‘Why not? You know the area better than me, perhaps we could have a drink too if you are not too tired?’

Armie was nonplussed, this person was so different to the earlier version of Timothée, this version was bold, extrovert and forward.  He was looking at Armie like he would eat him up.

Timothée stroked his arm, the arm holding his dick, he looked down the arm showing interest in what it was doing.  Armie felt his whole dick jump into his hand, he pressed down to stop it from sticking out, suppressing a groan, he was fully hard wanting to squeeze it and to go again.  Unembarrassed now, he stood up straight, it made it easier to hold himself, at the same time his erection was very evident. Timothée’s eyes continued following down the arm, paused on hand and cock, and then rose to look directly in Armie’s clear blue eyes.  He held his gaze.

‘I like you Armie, it would be nice to spend some time together. I’ll wait for you outside the crew area, I’ll be there when we have all finished.  See you then.’

What the hell!  Armie decided not to pass up this opportunity.

‘Yes Please.  That’s great Timothée.  I’ll see you later, thanks.’

He didn’t know why he said thanks, and he didn’t know why he said ‘Yes Please’.  He just knew he was happy, all caution gone.

 

When he got back to the flight deck they were three hours away from landing, and still over the Pacific. Rob and Drew would handle the approach and landing, Rob would do the landing as he needed to carry out the procedure to keep current and up to date.  He went over the details with them, they were experienced but he still had to make sure that they were clued in and paying attention.  About an hour before their due landing time and now visible on radar, they were contacted by Melbourne Air Traffic control and given their identifier so they could be tracked and piloted into the relevant sectors of airspace.  Armie knew the people at Melbourne well, they were efficient and safe, everything should be OK.  He sat in the spare seat, Stephen had also returned and was taking a rest, sitting alongside him. They still had another thirty minutes before things got critical but just now a slow descent was required, twenty minutes later they had to start lining up for their approach to the airport, it wasn’t clear how long they would be in, or if they needed to get into a holding pattern or wait for a landing slot.  The first air traffic controller passed them onto their next sector, the new AT controller told them she was excited and pleased to hear from them and that the weather was good, sunny and no wind, and there was no wait so all should be well.  It was in the end exactly as described, they slowed down using the flaps, dipped the nose and descended smoothly, air traffic control guided them in, and they landed safely half an hour early.  The flight and cabin crew ran their last checks as the last passengers left the plane, and when the plane was empty gathered their things, left the plane and passed through the special immigration and customs area for crews. When all were processed Armie bade his fellow crew members good bye and thanked them again for the smooth ride.

‘Aren’t you coming for a drink?’

‘No, I have plans.  I’ll see you in four days.  Back here at this lovely airport on this lovely plane.’

All four flight crew were rostered for a non-stop flight back to LA in exactly four days. They would be staying at the same beach hotel. The cabin crew split into those who would probably be on the same LA flight and others who were flying on to Asia and different flight patterns. The flight crew would have three days in LA and then back to base in Melbourne for seven days.  Although they flew from LA mostly, all of them were technically based in Melbourne.  The others were settled in Melbourne, Armie wrangled things so that his base was actually Los Angeles, he was rostered in such a way that his down-time mainly took place in LA.  He bought many a bottle of champagne in an effort to keep on the right side of the people who mattered – not his managers or employer but the back room staff who made sure that the planes ran on time and who flew them.  He had to pay back, he might have a month where he never got more than two nights off at any one time, he could live with it.

 

Armie stepped out of the area and looked for Timothée, he couldn’t see him. He waited. And began to feel disappointed, he had been stood up.  He sighed, picked up his case and flight bag walked across to the car hire booth and hired a BMW 3 series Coupe, it cost a bit, but it had as much space as a saloon with only two doors; it was more comfortable than a sports car which he needed because of his height, and it had a trunk for his bags, he thought fuck it the weather promised fair the coastal road was both beautiful in landscape and exhilarating to drive. He was going to have fun regardless.  Whilst he was waiting for the car to be brought round, he took out his phone to call Frank, had just found the number, was about to press the icon when he felt a hand on his back.

‘Where were you?’

‘I waited.’

‘Where?’

‘Just outside the crew clearance area.’

‘I was waiting just outside near the bathroom. I was hiding from the rest of team. I thought you had forgotten or didn’t want my company.  I didn’t have your number I couldn’t call you.’

‘How could I forget Timothée?  Give me your phone I’ll add my number.’

They both smiled at each other.

‘Hello.’

‘Hello.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The type of routines and description of layovers may be typical only on major airlines. Some pilots only get a day and night's rest before having to fly again, particularly for cut-price airlines or on internal flights - a plane on a runway is a plane not making money, what is described here is probably quite generous. Also Long Haul pilots also tend to get more 'time off' to recover than their short haul colleagues.


	3. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The guys start a road-trip and start to find out about each other.
> 
> This is fiction, I don't know them and as far as I know Armie does not know how to fly a plane.

‘I don’t understand you Timothée, one minute you are all hiding, not talking, difficult and the next chatty and interested in other people. Why?’

Armie thought he would be direct he had to find out what Timothée was about.

‘When I get anxious, I can shut down. It doesn’t mean that I am not interested and I can do my work OK but I am really by nature an introvert  I need to recover.  Sometimes I only have sufficient energy for work.  When that happens I just need to find time on my own, have a rest or nap.  Sorry.  That’s why I came across as rude on the flight.’

Armie let him carry on.

‘I was wary of you Armie, you looked at me like I was a piece of meat that you wanted to savage. I thought you were going to give me trouble.’

‘Sorry, I can’t deny it I find you attractive.  There are times when I can’t help myself.  When I want something or somebody I am like glass you can see right through me, it can be intimidating.  Sorry.  Anyway, we seemed to have jumped right into a serious conversation. Let’s lighten up.’

They had been driving for about an hour, what with setting up music, double checking maps, finding leads for the phone so it could be used as a sat nav (Armie never paid extra for one, he just used his phone), working out and playing with the available options in the car, they had not had much chance to talk.   Realistically the journey was going to take a day with stops for food, drink or bathroom.  They had already decided that they would split the driving, Armie was used to driving on the ‘wrong’ side of the road, Timothée wasn’t.  They settled on it being easier if Timothée drove most of the coastal road as it was a straightforward road and Armie could help out with advice when they had to turn off for refreshment.  Armie would do any town driving and start the journey off.

‘Do you think we should stop somewhere, rather than try to drive it all in one day?’

Timothée sounded and looked a bit nervous.  He didn’t really want to be driving at night.

Armie looked at him and gaged the situation.

‘What are you worried about?’

‘I…I don’t like driving at night..mmm…I don’t want to be driving on the wrong side of the road and end up killing us.  I don’t know…is that…I don’t do a lot of driving…’

‘That’s a lot of don’ts.  It’s OK Timmy, can I call you Timmy?  I like that better…I won’t call you that in front of other people.  Sorry is that too forward?  Look I don’t even know where I am going with this, that’s a lot to assume.  Shit. Sorry.’

Timothée laughed. 

‘You can call me Timmy. I am Tim to all my family. Who are your family Armie, do you have any siblings? Who are your parents?’

‘Conservative, Republican, Religious, Rich.  Everything I am not.  I don’t know how I ended up in that family.  I look like my Father but we could not be more unalike.  My poor Mom has had to act as a facilitator virtually all my life.  Once I started talking we started arguing.  If I wanted to read a book and act out the story, he would take it from me and put a toy gun in my hand.  Then I would throw the gun and myself down onto the ground and have a royal tantrum.  A moment later I wanted to be in his arms and he would pick me up, settle me, kiss and hug me.  Any time I am in trouble I go to him to seek his advice, approval and love. I don’t know why, because I don’t agree with any his opinions. And, I never take his advice.

In turn, he loves me but he does not understand me. He doesn’t understand why I keep asking for his advice and never take it.  He doesn’t understand why I like fucking men when I could have a perfectly good marriage or at least stick to fucking women. I keep explaining life is not an either or now, we have many options in today’s world. So we agree to disagree, we love each other but we do not discuss religion, politics, morality or sex. It is a given, otherwise World War Three breaks out in the house and it is not fair on the others.  We are opposite ends of a magnet, cannot do without each other, cannot live with each other, being in the same room is like nuclear fusion. We can clear a room in five minutes. That’s part of the reason I have this lifestyle.  He is my go to example of what love is like.  Despite everything, I love him.

My Mom is delightful, she agrees with everybody but mostly she agrees with my Dad.  They make a perfect pair.  She is everything you would want a Mom to be, she listens, offers no advice but somehow gets you to understand what the right thing is and if you don’t want to do the right thing, that’s also OK but then you have to handle your own mess.  She just walks away and leaves you to manage as best you can, well that is what she does with me.  I can be a little hot-headed.  My brother Viktor is the archetypal younger brother.  Sweet, obedient, amiable and quieter.  By comparison he is an angel, slept through the night very early, speaks to everyone politely, gets on with everyone and knows when to walk away from a fight.  Sometimes I look at him and want to punch him.  When we were young I’d hold him down and pinch him to make him scream and fight, just to see him being uncomfortable.  He always looks so at one with himself, it’s sickening.  I can’t be around him for long it’s like being around a giant teddy bear.  He’s just a shade taller than me, and he has my Mom’s black hair and blue eyes. When he was a teenager, the girls flocked to him but he has stuck to one girl, Jan, who he has known since he was ten, he got married to her when they were both twenty one, they have two children.  He’s two years younger, they have been married ten years. I favour my grandmother on my father’s side, I am totally my father’s child.  I am a Hammer, he is a Smith.’

Armie carried on talking.

Timothée looked closely at him. He didn’t really know him but could tell he was complex, had things he had not and would not reveal unless forced, someone who had not yet worked out who he was and probably never would.  Ruled by his emotions without knowing or controlling it, otherwise how else would he find himself in constant disagreement with his father?

‘Why don’t you just accept his views, you can listen and appreciate what he has to say.’

Armie fell silent.

‘He knows more than you do.  He is older and from what you say successful. You don’t have to do what he does but he must have something you can learn from.’

Armie looked at him like he had lost his mind.

‘I’ll introduce you. Then you can make up your own mind.  Shall we stop for a break?’

That was the end of that conversation.

There was a Freedom gas station coming up, they stopped at Gloria Jean’s for a coffee after filling up the car.

‘Do you want a pastry?’

‘Nope, I don’t do pastries at gas stations’

Timothée looked at him, judgemental at his apparent snobbery.

‘I only eat pastries at restaurants and I have to watch what I eat.’

Timothée brazenly looked him up and down, he looked fit in all ways, his ass was on point.

‘Really.’

‘If I eat what I want, I put on weight easily, what you see has been earnt.  I have to exercise.  Are we done here?’

Like the discussion on his father, the matter was closed.

 

Half an hour later, and silence, Timothée asked again about stopping overnight.  He was driving and he wasn’t speaking much as he was getting used to using different hands and feet to drive.

‘Yeah, we probably better, we haven’t had a good night’s sleep for a couple of days, you’re right about driving on unfamiliar roads at night, probably not a good idea.  There’s a place I’ve stayed at a few times, we’ll get there about six, it doesn’t get dark until around eight.  We can get settled before it gets dark.  It has a good restaurant and bar.’

They safely reached Gipsy Point Lodge, Armie took over the driving and they went into town and found a little general store and bought a bottle of vodka, some soft drinks and snacks.  They would eat dinner later.  The vodka was for sitting on the waterside balconies that the chalet had.  Armie knew which cottage to choose and luckily it was free, the Chief Engineer’s cottage had double and single rooms, they flipped and Timothée got the double and Queen bed, but being kind immediately said Armie could have it because he was taller and needed the space to sleep in. It was hidden away in a corner, and surrounded by views of the bay.  Timothée was overcome, he sat for a while at the small table on a small wooden platform just outside the living room/dining area, the view was grand, with water stretching for what seemed like miles, the shade of a tree covered hill to their left open water to their right.  The next chalet balcony about twenty yards away, it was private and perfect.  Night started to fall and the soft sounds of water and wild life going to sleep began to reverberate around them.  In fact Armie went in for a nap around 7pm leaving Timothée with a book in hand but already nodding off in a comfortable chair.  Timothée booked a table for 8.30pm, the last sitting, instead they called and asked if the food could be brought to them, settling on a simple burger, salad and baked potato each. They also got a couple of beers each.  At 8.25pm there was a knock on the door and Timothée set out the food on the dining area table, calling Armie from his snooze.

‘Armie, get up the food’s here. Armie! Armie! Get Up!’

He crossed the room when nobody appeared, went into the bedroom and was confronted by Armie lying across the bed in just his boxers, his soft well sized dick was lying on his groin and showed through the cotton flap. Armie’s body looked mighty fine, lightly defined, soft muscle covering his spare frame.  Timothée blushed, a heat ran through him, his hands were beginning to tingle, he wanted to touch, he didn’t really know what to do with himself.

‘Armie.’  He stood in the door and turned away from the view.

Armie was awake. 

He wanted to see if Timothée would come over.  He was giving him a preview.

Timothée turned off the light, went back and ate his dinner, he covered Armie’s food and put it to one side.  When he finished eating, he washed his dish and cutlery, poured himself a large vodka, drank it in one, stood for a moment contemplating, poured another large vodka, drank that and went to bed, knocked out by food, alcohol and excitement.

Armie smiled, turned over and went to sleep.

 

‘Are you gay?’

Armie posed the question gently.

Timothée didn’t answer.

Armie didn’t ask again.

 

They had breakfast, Armie falling on the food like a vulture, he had not eaten since lunchtime the day before and went for the full cooked breakfast which resembled a full English breakfast or basically protein supplemented with baked beans.  He took away an apple and a banana from the breakfast stand, and asked if any of the snacks from the night before had been eaten.

‘I just had a couple of vodkas, and went to bed.’

‘Oh, a couple.  Looked more like a couple or six.’

Timothée was silent. Got up and went back to room leaving Armie sitting there waiting for another coffee.  They were indeed a pair.  Timothée silent and huffy, Armie ready to have fun he was going to tease the shit out of him.

 

‘Shall I take the first leg?’ 

It wasn’t really a question, Armie picked up the keys while Timothée went around the rooms again to double check that nothing was left behind.  They went to reception, and then proceeded to argue like an old married couple over who was paying the bill.

‘I wanted to stop over, let me pay.’

‘I don’t mind, I’ll pay baby.’

Timothée was now cross. Armie had set up him as a lover.

The receptionist’s face remained blank, he was used to this, he waited for a decision.

Timothée turned away from the desk and grabbed Armie’s arm.  Armie leaned into him.

‘What are you playing at?’

‘Nothing, What’s the problem?’

‘Why are you calling me baby?’

‘I like you, that is what I call men that I like.’

‘Don’t.’

Timothée paid the bill.

 

‘What type of station do you want to listen to? Or do you want to listen to Spotify?’  Armie turned on Bluetooth and connected his phone to the car system. As they turned onto the road, a call came through.  It was Frank.

‘Hiya Darling.  I thought you were coming into town today.’ Frank was out and proud. ‘I can’t wait to see you, I put you in my calendar, was only waiting the call, where are you?’

‘Hi Babe, just coming up the road now.  I got a friend with me.’

‘Really? What kind of friend?’ Are you fucking?’

‘No, I am not fucking him, he won’t sleep with me.’

‘Good. I have been saving myself for you.  You owe me two.’

‘OK, OK don’t start, he’s in the car with me he can hear everything you say, babe.’

‘Don’t mind me, babe.’

Timothée muttered this sarcastically under his breath. Only Armie could hear him.

‘Jealous?  I can cure that.’ 

Equally soft. Armie squeezed his leg up near his crotch.  Timothée jumped.

‘Stop that.’

Timothée made sure he could be heard. Frank laughed.

‘Are you feeling him up babe, squeeze him again for me. He sounds young, is he good looking? I like young attractive flesh, bring him with you.  We could share.’

Armie squeezed Timothée again, this time his hand was on his cock.

The sound Timothée made was unmistakable.  Frank cracked up.

‘Leave him be babe, he’s inexperienced, otherwise he’d know not to tease and how to get what he wants.’

‘I did not tease him, he is taking liberties with me.’

‘What liberty did he take darling?  You should let him… he’s good…you know…in bed…I don’t mind…OK…hmm…Armie…you know I can wait til next time if you want to…you know…’

Timothée sunk further into his funk.

‘I’ll call you when we stop, speak later darling.’ 

Armie was closing the call. There was some general byeing and see you laters etc and Frank was gone.

‘Are you offended?’ Armie was smirking.

Timothée said nothing.

The mood turned sombre.  Armie decided perhaps it wasn’t a good idea to tease Timothée.  His default response to anything he did not like was falling silent, Armie changed tack.

‘I wasn’t going to spend any time with Frank, you know. I thought we could have a day and a night in Melbourne, come back on the inland road and spend a night in a lodge in the national park, and drive directly back.  We should have time to do that, how does that sound?’

‘You are not beholden to me.  I can always get a train back.’

‘Why would I expect you to get a train back?’

‘Why did you ask me to come with you if you were planning on seeing your boyfriend?’

‘Frank is not my boyfriend.  He is a friend who I fuck. I was only on the point of calling him when you didn’t turn up.’

‘I didn’t not turn up, I was waiting for you in the wrong place.  Don’t put that on me.’

‘I don’t understand why you are so tetchy.  Lighten up, have some fun.  Frank is my fuck buddy, he is a nice person, he can be over the top but his heart is in the right place.  I could do worse and so could you.  Don’t you have anyone that you just have sex with, a friends with benefit situation?’

‘I’m a virgin.’

‘What!’

‘You heard me right, I am a virgin.’

‘What is the matter with you?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘What the fuck, look at you.  You are gorgeous.  Nobody want to fuck you before? Girl or Boy?  I don’t fucking believe you.  Motherfucker, why are you lying?  I’ve seen you looking, don’t fucking lie.’

‘Why are you swearing so much?’

A moment’s silence.

‘OK, what’s the story?  Are you religious? Saving yourself for your true love?  Pure in mind and body? Wait, tell me you have…?’

Armie made a gesture with his hand.

Timothée said nothing.

Armie laughed. 

‘What about…?’  Made a gesture with his hand and mouth.

And even colder look passed across Timothée’s face.

‘I don’t know why you are finding this so amusing.  I have never dated.’

‘Shut up.  Timothée do you have any sexual experience?’

‘A girl kissed me in high school.  I didn’t like it, so I have never bothered with any of that.  It was nasty.’

Armie turned to look at him.

‘Seriously?  You have never dated?’

‘No.’

‘Don’t you get frustrated?  What do you do with your wood?  Or if you see somebody who makes your dick jump’

Timothée looked at him with scorn.

‘I have control.’

‘You are a fucking liar.  That is enough, tell me the fucking truth.  Have you never fucked or been fucked or had a hand job or a blow job?’

‘Which part of that do you want me to answer?’

Armie looked at him, this fucker was trying his patience.  He knew he would not get a straight answer out of him.

‘So, if we are confessing.  I’m married.’

No reaction.  Armie carried on

‘Yes, for convenience, I fucked her though, and I fuck her every so often, just to keep my hand in and to maintain some semblance of a genuine marriage. I don’t live with her.  I needed Australian residency in order to get this job so I married an Australian, she also lives and works out of Melbourne. I planned it when I was working at Delta, Virgin always have more pilot vacancies and they employ young pilots and I wanted to work long haul.  I wasn’t dishonest I was straight up with her.  This was two years ago

She is quite often on the same flight as me, you might know her. Her name is Chelsea Barnes.’

Timothée continuing sitting in silence.  His face inscrutable. Armie let him be. He spoke eventually.

‘Who else knows?’

‘Just Chelsea, everyone else thinks I am gay.  I am not completely, about 90%.’  He chuckled.  Chelsea was tall, dark haired, slim and had breasts the right size for her frame, a perfect handful – she was attractive not traditionally beautiful, and, quietly confident.  Armie had a type.

‘Timmy, you are not really giving me anything.  What do you want?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Do you want to have a relationship? Sex? Love?’

Armie could see the thoughts racing through Timmy’s head.  He took a guess at what they were.

‘Now you are wondering how much you should tell me?  Why don’t you just tell me the truth?’

‘That is not helpful.’

If Armie could facepalm he would.  Why was he bothering?  Against his better judgement, he liked Timmy.  And, he could live without pressurising him into sex, he’d tell him this.

‘Timmy, I don’t have to have sex with you in order to persuade you to like me or to gain your friendship.  We can do that without any physical connection.’

‘I am not without knowledge.  I know that. I can see you are a very sexual person Armie, I told you I liked you, didn’t I?  That means something, but I am not like you I can’t always express how I feel. I am not frightened of you.  Do I feel things, of course I do.  When I saw you last night I wanted to put my hands on you.  Of course I get hard, I am human.  But I can’t help but associate what happened with that girl with relationships in general.  So I make friends, I get into situations and then nothing.  I think I must have some invisible barrier, or show disinterest. I go so far and then nothing.  So I have kind of given up, except I haven’t.  Every so often I run into someone that I like and I want something to happen but I can’t make it stick.’

‘Do you like me in that way?  Would you like to have sex with me?’

Timothée fell silent.

‘Is that’s too much?’

‘Yes.’

‘OK, lets listen to some music, listen to this.’

Armie put on some classical music, Timmy didn’t know what it was but it kind of set things straight.  They didn’t have to talk.  They took in the scenery and just enjoyed companionable silence.  Armie took over all of the driving and they arrived in Sydney fours later, in time for a very late lunch.  He didn’t call Frank back, he would understand.


	4. Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More Road Trip. Things take a turn.
> 
> This is fiction, I do not know them and as far as I know Armie has never flown a plane.

At the reception of the Four Seasons hotel, Armie booked a room with a harbour view under his name and with his card.  He didn’t ask for a twin.

Timothée as usual had nothing to say.

They left their bags in the safe keeping of the hotel and went for a walk around the gay district of Sydney, walking down Oxford Street to take in the views sights and sounds of the gay friendly city centre.

‘Would you like to take in a sauna?’

Timothée looked at him as if he was mad.

‘Why would I want to do that?’

Armie raised his eyebrows.

‘You know why.  It might relax you.’

‘No.’

‘OK, let’s find a bar.  We could try the Beresford, that isn’t too over the top, and they have a nice food and courtyard, yeah let’s go there.  It’s a good walk probably take about half an hour, are you up for that?’

‘Yes.’

‘Are you going to be monosyllabic?’

‘No.’

Timothée giggled.

‘What are am I going to do with you?’

Timothée raised his eyebrows.

‘Don’t make promises you have no intention of keeping.’

Timothée tongue tip pressed outwards and brushed across his mouth, seemingly tasting his upper lip, he pulled it back and sucked on it, and then pulled his lower lip into his mouth and sucked that, for a long time.

‘You fucker.’

Timothée stepped in front of him, walking forward and tucking his t-shirt into the waist band of his trousers at the back giving Armie a perfect view of his rolling ass. Armie’s dick began paying attention.  They walked like that for twenty minutes until they were a block away from the bar/restaurant and Timothée stepped back alongside him.  Armie enjoyed the friction of his trouser against his semi-erect cock. He put a hand in a pocket to increase the sensation, he was going to edge himself, the evening would play out as it would.  The same hand adjusted the cock into the groove of his hip. The bulge kept growing, hidden by wearing black jeans. He didn’t need to fuck Timothée to get satisfaction, he could get that without touching him.  So long as he wasn’t too obvious he could get hard and stay that way until they got back to the hotel.

 

They had their late lunch in the courtyard and a pleasant conversation, Timothée was back on his best behaviour and pretended not to notice what was going on.  He was fully aware. At six, they decided to walk back to the hotel, the same as before this time in reverse, Armie was enjoying himself and looking forward to his orgasm.  He had been hard in some way for over two hours, he just had to get Timothée out of their room for the time it would take him to come.

 

‘Let me watch.’

‘What the fuck is wrong with you?’

‘I want to see it.’

Armie could not deny what was going on.  Timothée’s eyes were like saucers, trained on his dick.

‘Take it out, I want to see it Armie. Get on the bed, take off your clothes.’

Timothée drew up a chair alongside the bed.

‘Get on the bed, I want to watch.  Can I touch it?’

Jesus, this boy was something else.                                                                                                    

‘I haven’t touched one before, please.’

‘Can I kiss you?’

‘No, I just want to touch it.’

‘Come on then.  Are you gonna get me off?  Or do you just want to see how it feels?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Stroke it.’

‘How?’

‘Timothée do not tell me you have not handled your own dick.  Get over here.’

Armie undressed, he was excited his dick remained rigid he didn’t have to touch himself to keep it hard.

He rested his head on the pillows and made himself comfortable, stretched out and widened his legs slightly splitting his ass cheeks so as to increase the intensity of his orgasm, settled again.

‘Come on, start stroking me.’

Timothée was too tentative to start off with.

‘Harder.’

‘Doesn’t it hurt?’

‘No. Harder’

Armie lay back, this was new as in a new hand on his dick.

‘Slow down. Yeah that’s it. Fuck.  Yeah. Keep that up…I’m close, yeah…I’m gonna come…’

Armie felt the orgasm coming nearer, he was hanging there, he wanted to control when to let loose.

‘Slower.’

He wanted the edging to continue. This felt fucking amazing.

He closed his eyes.  He felt something move over him, and Timothée began sucking him.  Fuck, that fucker was lying, his mouth was just on his crown, the ridge pulled by his lips, licked by his tongue, his lips were soft, then firm, a lot of saliva on the tip swirled it around his mouth, and started sucking again. Armie came hard.  And Timothée kept his mouth on him, swallowing and sucking. Armie made a lot of noise, it was one of the best and most intense sexual experiences he had ever had.  It was going to take him a while to recover.

Timothée giggled.

‘Did you like that?’

 

‘How many lovers have you had?’

‘Mind your own business.’

Timothée giggled again, it was something that Armie could get used to.

 

When he woke Timothée was sitting there watching him.

‘You are fucking weird.’

‘Yeah, but you like it.’

Timothée got undressed and lay down beside him.

‘We are not fucking.  Go back to sleep.’

 

At ten o’clock, they got up.  Timothée would not shower with him.  They dressed and went out to the Green Park Hotel for a drink.  They both drew attention, they were out of towners, Armie’s height, and Timothée’s delicate good looks meant they would not go unnoticed.

Armie bought himself a pint of lager, Timothée had a bottle of Stella.  They sat in a booth and were quickly joined by two other men, two other men came and stood alongside.  Armie was wary, he didn’t want any trouble, and he didn’t want anyone hitting on Timothée, he could look after himself, he didn’t want to have to fight off men on behalf of Timothée.

‘Do you mind if we join you?  It’s so busy and there are no other seats.’  They had bought their own drinks.  ‘Are you staying in Sydney long?’

‘Overnight, we’re on a flying visit, driving back down to Melbourne tomorrow, we just had a quick run up the coastal road to see the scenery, we’ll go back by the inland road see some more scenery.  It’s been nice, been very lucky with the weather.  What about you?’

‘Oh, we are out of towners too, but you’re American aren’t you?’

‘Yes, we work for an Australian company.’

‘What do you do?’

‘ICT, we’re engineers the boring stuff.’

‘OK. That sounds interesting, not. What are you going to do tonight?  Do you want some _company_?’

This is what Armie thought they wanted, _company_ , a euphemism for group sex.

‘Nope.  Thanks, we just want a quick drink and perhaps we’ll go on somewhere else for a dance.’

Timothée was doing his silent number.

‘Don’t your friend speak?’, a second man spoke, a bear of a man bearded and round as a ball.

‘He’s a newbie and he’s shy.’

‘Why don’t you all fuck off?’

Now Armie was stunned.

‘I am not interested in group sex.  It is nasty.  He’s my boyfriend and I don’t mess around. Fuck Off.’

The man who had spoken first got up.

‘Well, you don’t have to be rude. Wow, does that count as shy?’

‘I speak as I find and you are all nasty, get lost.’

The group of men were just as stunned as Armie, they all left, as one

‘Where are you taking me to dinner?’

‘Wow, just wow.  Where is the silent non-communicating fuck that was around earlier today.  From sulking to sucking to telling people to fuck off. Wow.’

Timothée put his hand on his leg, stroked the inside from his knee to his dick and said.

‘Right here baby.  And we are not fucking tonight.’

 

They decide to stay, get some bar food to line their stomachs, there’s a DJ and a back room which was heaving, just what they wanted. Somehow, Armie gets hold of some poppers.

‘What are you going to do with those?’

‘Take them.’

‘Why?  I am not going to fuck you.’

‘You keep telling me that, and you also told me you were a virgin and that you didn’t have much experience.’

‘I only told you I am a virgin, and that is true.’

‘From the mouth on you, I don’t think that is true. You give a fucking excellent blow job.’

‘Yes I know, I am an expert.’

‘I don’t know you.’

‘No, you don’t’

 

They have more than several drinks.  Armie is impressed with Timothée’s capacity. He had three bottles of beer, four cocktails and three Jagerbombs, before refusing any further drinks.  Armie only had a pint and two vodka martinis. Timothée had had four different cocktails in a variety of colours.  He had come undone.  Armie wanted the alcohol to leave his system before he flew a plane.  Other pilots might not care and some drank the night before they flew.  He wouldn’t do it, neither would he take a popper after tonight, he would either use it this same evening or not at all on this trip.  He then realised he also had to look after Timothée.

Timothée suddenly turned amorous.  The Jagerbombs had reached home.

‘Perhaps we should fuck after all…my dick has gone very hard.  Feel it Armie.’

He pressed himself against Armie as a slow track came on.  He was indeed hard, which was a miracle.

‘Dance with me, I want to feel your dick.  Come here.’

He pulled Armie into him.

‘umm…Timothée in common parlance, you are pissed.’

‘Nope, just tipsy.  Got to go to the bathroom, wait for me. Just going to pee.’

‘And I don’t need to know that either.’

 

He was gone a while.  Armie walked around the dance floor looking for him, it wasn’t a large space and he couldn’t find him, he started to get worried.  He went to the bathroom and started shouting his name.

‘Timmy! Timmy, are you in here?’

There was some noise in one of the stalls, it stopped when Armie called for Timmy.  He heard muttering.

‘Timmy, Timmy.  Open the door baby.’

‘Give me a minute, just trying something out...’

A thought crossed Armie’s mind.

‘What have you taken?’

‘I’m so hard Armie…hurts…my head hurts...ooh shit…that’s good’

Popper.

‘Did you take one of those poppers?’

‘Huh?’

‘Did you take one of those poppers?’

‘Mmm…mmm…yeah’

There was an unmistakable sound coming from the cubicle.

Timmy was close to climaxing.

‘Timmy let me in, I can do that for you. Timmy…’

Some groaning and guttural sounds emerged from the cubicle.  Neither seemed to care that people were coming in and out of the bathroom.

‘Oh fuck…that’s it…yeah…I’m done…fuck yeah…that was good…ah fuck.’

The cubicle door opened.

‘Come in.’

He pulled Armie in. Closed the door again.

‘Taste that…’

Timothée snickered.  He was drunk on alcohol and his climax.

‘Yes, you’re delicious darling…now come on, wash your hands…time to go back.’

He gathered Timothée up, they left the club together arm in arm. It was late, very late.

 

Timothée could not get up the following morning.

‘Leave me…I’ll join you in a moment…I’m alright…’

‘Get Up.  We promised to go via Bondi beach, we’ll have to miss that if you don’t get up now.  Timmy! Get Up!’

Groaning, general moaning and cursing followed.

‘Next time…’

Armie pulled the top sheet off.  Timmy lay there in his glory, nothing on.  He rolled onto his back everything, in a manner of speaking, was flying, Armie had a good look and then turned away.  If he touched that, the morning was gone.

‘Get Up.’

‘Why did you buy those poppers? And those drinks?  I am fucking hung over and it is your fault.’

He rolled out of bed and gave Armie the filthiest look.

‘How much time have we got?’

‘We need to leave in about an hour.’

‘So I can go back to bed for half an hour.’

‘No, you can’t. We are having breakfast then leaving.’

‘I hate you.’

‘No, you don’t.  And, you love my dick, you are going to suck on it again before we get back to Melbourne.’

Timothée had been sitting there naked, neither was embarrassed, they felt like it was normal.

 

It was quite early when they got to Bondi, only about ten in the morning, they found a beachside café and sat with coffees, now sufficiently woken up to enjoy the coming day.

‘I really like you Armie.’

‘Oh, a couple of hours ago you were cursing me and threatening to leave my ass here.’

‘Yeah, I was.’ A different type of giggle.

‘And, last night you were wanting to fuck. And very blunt about it out on the street, you were trying to pull my clothes off in the lobby. You were also telling anyone who would listen what you were going to do to me. Now tell me, exactly, how many lovers have you had?’

‘How long will it take us to get to the Lodge?  Have you made reservations yet? 

‘Avoiding again. Don’t think I’m not tallying your silences and evasive questions and answers. You also keep telling me you are a virgin, which is it? Virgin or not virgin?’

‘Perhaps we should fuck.  Perhaps I want to give you my virginity.’

‘I’m not sure I want it. I want to fuck you. I don’t know if I want to be your first.’

‘Perhaps Frank will oblige.  He’d fuck me.’

‘Frank wouldn’t fuck you.  He likes me and wouldn’t want to get between us.’

‘Perhaps he knows someone who would oblige.’

‘You won’t like sleeping with someone that you don’t know.  You aren’t made that way Timothée.’

Timothée fell silent.

‘Wait until you have done it a few times, then come back and ask me the same questions.  Let’s go.  We need to be making tracks.’  He paused and looked carefully at Timothée.

‘I have to say I was not expecting anything like this.  I thought we might fuck I did not expect this at all, not at all.

And I like you too Timothée, you are a fucking pain in the ass.  But I do like you.’  He threw him the remote to the car.  ‘You can drive.’

 

They took their time and arrived at the Lodge for Dinner.  Timothée was quieter, Armie wondered if he had said too much.  He didn’t want to make him feel like he undermined or childish or too inexperienced or that he didn’t want to sleep with him.  He did feel that if Timothée wasn’t lying about being a virgin, then who ever did sleep with him first should be someone who genuinely cared for him.  A road trip was not the place for something momentous to take place, a road trip was for raucous behaviour.  They had had some, they didn’t know each other well enough to be undertaking such an important act, however much fun he could make it for him. They were waiting for their first course, Armie opened the conversation, he wanted to get to know this man, to understand him.

‘Are you tired?  You’re very quiet.’

‘No not tired, you make me feel a bit, well pensive actually anxious.’

The old Timothée was back.

‘I meant it when I said that that girl had made me very wary.  She didn’t just kiss me, she also groped me, I wasn’t expecting it.  I felt very embarrassed and ashamed.’

‘What did she do?’

‘Well, she put her hands on me.’

‘How? Did she touch your genitals?’

‘Yes’

‘Had you been making out with her? Did you kiss her first?’

‘No…yes…well…OK…we were drinking shots…then we went into a room together…we were both a bit drunk…the other people left us …she might have thought I was OK with what she was doing…she was pretty…I liked her…I don’t know…’

‘Timothée, I am going to call you out. Did you willingly go into that room? Did you or did you not want to kiss her?  Did you fondle her?’

‘God, that’s a lot of questions…let me see…I thought I should try making out with a girl.  I’d done it with guys.  You know mutual stuff, not fucking though.  I wanted to prove to myself that I…I don’t know…I just wanted to be sure.  Cos, I knew that I liked guys but I didn’t want to rule out girls, that’s normal, isn’t it? Making out with girls…all my friends wanted to...I wanted to…I don’t know…I wanted to see what it was like.  I wanted to actually touch a real woman…’

‘Have you ever feel attracted to a woman?’

Timothée didn’t answer.  By not responding he had given his answer to Armie.

‘Why would you try Timothée…there’s nothing wrong with only liking guys.  What are your parents like?  Are they homophobic?’

‘Far from it. They don’t care. They are so fucking liberal. I could do what I want. They never told me anything, only how to avoid getting caught.’

‘What!  What do you mean? Listen I can deal with evasiveness, I cannot deal with outright lying. Do you want to re-think what you just said?’

‘Anyway, they don’t mind me being…you know…only liking men.  They took me to a doctor when I was sixteen to ask him to explain what I needed to do to keep safe.  That’s not normal.

I always wanted to fuck an older man, how old are you Armie?  Thirty-five?  That age is perfect…ideal…mature but not old…energy and experience…hmm…’  Timothée looked at Armie and swallowed deeply, suddenly blushing and dropping his eyes.

Armie wanted to slap him.  He rolled his eyes instead.

‘I am thirty-three Timothée, my birthday is exactly one month away. So I am not far off your ideal age for a lover. Here comes our food, behave yourself.’

 

‘Everybody has you wrong.  They think you are reticent and shy.  How have you managed to fool everyone?’

‘I am shy Armie.’

‘You’re not shy with me.’

A sly smile.

‘I want you to fuck me.’

 

‘Ready for bed?’

‘Yes.’

They walked to their room.  This time they were going to split the bill. It was just a bedroom and bathroom, simple accommodation. It held a king sized bed and a sofa which could be pulled out to make another place to sleep. Armie to be fair, was having second thoughts about sharing the bed.  He wasn’t sure, Timothée was wearing him down.  He didn’t know what to believe, Timmy obviously had some experience and wanted more. Armie had given up newbies, they tended to fall in love on first fuck.  He couldn’t deal with it, but Timothée was getting to him, they’d have to talk.

Timothée went into the shower first, came out in a dressing gown, one he hadn’t bought with him.  It fitted perfectly as he was slim, it wrapped divinely around his body – he looked like a model, his fine legs on show tapering to some delicate feet marked by pale veins, his skin soft like white velvet lips like they had just been kissed, hair still wet only roughly dried. Armie’s mouth began to water, he wanted to taste him.

‘What side?’

‘hmm…’

‘What side are you sleeping on?’

‘Doesn’t matter.’

Armie didn’t know why he had asked, he could already feel Timothée’s body against his, he imagined them wrapped in each other’s arms.  It really didn’t matter what side Timothée slept on.

He went into the bathroom.   Brushed his teeth, paused on what to do next, shower and ?  Perhaps he should whack one off, that might reduce the possibility of anything happening.   He agreed with himself that this was a good idea, ran the shower full blast very warm and proceeded to stroke himself to orgasm.  He kind of wished he had gone with Frank, it would have resolved this current situation and he could still have courted Timothée.

He left the bathroom dressed in just some pyjama bottoms, Timothée was naked, lying on his stomach, his peach like ass up in the air ready for…

‘For fuck’s sake’.

Timothée was fast asleep, murmuring pleasantly, indistinct words, he sounded happy, dreaming something, smiling softly. 

Armie was safe, he crept round got on the bed, nudged Timothée who turned on his side and fell silent, covered them both with a sheet and went to sleep himself.

 

Somehow, in the middle of the night Armie woke with Timothée snuggled into his chest, his bottom in Armie’s groin, he poked him, indignation sounded and Timothée rolled over to the other side of the bed.  Of course when morning came they had both come together again, this time Armie had an arm wrapped round Timothée’s upper body and a leg over his hips, Armie’s dick nestled softly in Timothée’s ass, he already felt possessive. He unhooked himself got up and went to the bathroom.  When he returned Timothée was awake.

‘Morning sweetheart’

‘Come here.’

As requested Armie got back into bed and into Timothée’s arms.  They just lay there together comfortable.  Their room had a large picture window which looked out into the forest, they were shielded because the room was fairly high up, no-one could see in.  Timothée was snuggled into Armie’s neck, soft hair and lips, his breath as he spoke brushed over Armie’s skin, sending shivers down his body.

‘Can I kiss you?’

‘If we brush our teeth, I hate morning breath.’

A few minutes later.

‘Stop it Timothée, I am not fucking you.’

He removed a hand.

Some whining took place.

‘That’s what you get, or don’t…, if you can’t behave.’

 

They had breakfast, walked part of a trail and made their way back to Melbourne, after a night’s sleep they got back to the airport.  They both looked very rested, rosy and happy. It was noted.

‘So, what happened?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Nothing? I don’t believe you. What happened?’

‘Nothing Sylvie. We just had a nice time.’

‘Did you…?’

‘No.’

‘Why not?’

‘Why not?  Sylvie, he’s nice.  And I’d like to get to know him.  We just spent some time together, driving and basically nothing else.’

‘How do I know you are lying?’

 

Armie swapped around the crew, this time partnering with Drew.  He had already promised Stephen that he would spend some time with him and his partner when they got back to LA.  Stephen’s partner lived and worked in LA, they tried to avoid being separated more than two weeks at a time.  The schedule this month was a good one, he was able to spend three days at a time, more than three times that month.  The partner, Richard, was a lawyer, they’d met at an upmarket sauna called Caesar’s Locker, which Armie also frequented when he was at a loose end, it was membership only and only those employed in a ‘profession’ could join.  The club had private rooms, luxury secluded bathing areas and showers, very good masseurs, a bar and dining facilities, members were guaranteed to meet like minded wealthy people who knew how to spend money wisely and how to look after themselves, the sex was a bonus. Many men met their partners there or at least men they wanted to spend time with.

Stephen was going to fix him up with a creative named Chris, from a big advertising agency who had clients in New York, London and LA.  Armie was in two minds.  He was probably worth meeting, but getting with someone who wasn’t actually going to be around much and was too busy to be based in one place basically meant a friends with benefits situation.  He began to think about what he really needed and it wasn’t that.  He could live with Stephen’s routine, knowing where you were going to be for the next six weeks or so, having someone permanent around who understood your need to be heavily involved in your work, and who had the same sense of fun and feeling of goodwill towards others.  That was tricky, where was he going to find that?

The flight went all to plan, afterwards flight and cabin crew gathered in their area of immigration and customs.  Armie was tempted to avoid Timothée, he didn’t want to tell him where he was going.

‘What are you doing in LA?  Anything planned?  When shall we meet?  I have a few places I want to visit…with you.’

Timothée’s face showed a mixture of feelings, excitement, shyness, expectancy, and hesitancy.  He has something gnawing at him, Armie is evasive…he knows that he should not expect anything from him, however he is still glossy eyed and anticipating that Armie is going to see him and he was wrong to feel on edge. 

They had spoken on the plane, shared lunch and their second break, things had carried on from the Lodge.  Flirting and suchlike, comfortable conversation and intention on both sides. Timothée had just expected Armie to make time for him, he naturally thought they would be spending more time together and a weekend in LA would be perfect, and yet he felt as if he was waiting for a decision.

Armie looked at Timothée and wondered to himself, so many things to consider.  What did he want from Timothée?  He enjoyed his company, he wanted him sexually, did he think that a relationship was possible? What did Timothée himself want?

‘I’ve made plans with Stephen.  We are going to Caesar’s Locker.’

‘Sorry…OK…did you say Caesar’s…OK. Right. I thought…I must have misunderstood…Armie…umm…’

Timothée didn’t know what to say, he’d heard of Caesar’s Locker from friends who were more into the sauna and sex lifestyle.  He wasn’t going to criticise, he was disappointed.

‘OK...well, you have my phone number, give me a call.  I mean that Armie.’ He reached up and kissed his cheek, held onto his arm. ‘I don’t know which flights I am on next, my schedules have just gone into a new rotation and I haven’t checked, don’t be a stranger.’  Timothée walked away, and Armie watched him as he left through the staff departure lounge onwards to the side exit.

Armie stood still.  What next?


	5. Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Armie could do better and wakes up to his responsibilities.
> 
> This is fiction, I do not know them and as far as I know Armie has never flown a plane.

He’d made a mistake. A big one.

There was nothing wrong with Chris, the advertising executive.  He was a decent guy, pleasant looking, trim, recently thirty-nine and looking to settle down.  Looking for someone like Armie, younger but mature.  He told Armie he had just bought an apartment on Home Avenue, a prestigious area of LA and was now settled there, work would come to him now, he did not need to travel so much and he had a base where he could live and a downtown office courtesy of the Agency that he could use for collaborative work or meetings.

Stephen and Richard were expecting Armie to bite and hold on to this man.  They were not wrong in their assumption, Armie and Chris made a good couple, and were very suitable.  And that was it, they fit together perfectly and looked like companions on first pairing. They would not argue, were reasoning grown-up people, intelligent, good looking singular and plural, spoke well and would have no problem fitting in with each other’s lifestyle nor communicating with the other’s friends and family. Marriage material in fact.  They could make the sex work, were experienced, knew how to turn on another man, how to get it on, and yet something was missing. 

Armie wanted something or somebody who would rub up against him and make him think twice, someone who wouldn’t settle for what they had initially, someone that he could grow into and get to know. And know more about as time went on and grow to love more as their knowledge of each other increased.  Someone who would argue with him and make him re-assess when he done something stupid or said something unworthy.  He didn’t want to know from the start that this was all there was, that this was good, and good enough. He wanted to be stretched, and not be sure that he knew how each day would turn out or that he could guess what was likely to happen three months down the line. He wanted to feel that itch for his person and that spark that initiated all feeling and hopefulness.  And he didn’t want to know that he knew how to satisfy his man, he wanted to learn what made him hum or hiss with pleasure, and still not know how he did it. He wasn’t sure, but he thought he knew who could give him all of that.

They all had a steam bath and massage, there was no sex or anticipation of sex just a pleasant outing for a friendly group of men.  They showered, got dressed and were having fruit based cocktails at the bar, no point in drinking alcohol if they had just cleansed themselves physically.

‘Shall we have dinner?’  Asked Richard, who was Chris’ friend.

‘Why not?’ said Armie.

Stephen pulled him to one side,

‘Go on Richard, we’ll catch up with you’ 

He let the other two go ahead, smiling and winking to give them both re-assurance.  He too had an uneasy feeling, he wanted to find out what Armie really thought of Chris.

‘What did you think of him?’

‘He’s nice.’

‘Nice. That’s pejorative.’

‘No, I meant it. He’s nice.’

‘But he’s not your person?’

‘Right, and I am in big fucking trouble.’

 

He didn’t have Timothée’s phone number, he had given his number to Timothée but he had not asked him to send a text or call him so the number was not saved on his phone; as they had spent all their time together, he had not needed to call him.  His words came back to haunt him, he kept recalling parts of their conversation:

‘…I want to fuck you. I don’t know if I want to be your first.’

‘You won’t like sleeping with someone that you don’t know.  You aren’t made that way Timothée.’

 ‘Wait until you have done it a few times, then come back and ask me the same questions.’ 

 

The next few weeks went by slowly, he was next on the Hong Kong and Shanghai routes from Melbourne and returned to LA when the string of flights completed, he flew Hong Kong to Melbourne, and then Melbourne to Shanghai, back to Melbourne and only then back to LA. Now it was early December, he had spent his birthday in Shanghai, getting drunk lying on his hotel bed and thinking of Timothée.  Wondering if he had taken him at his word and was busy fucking someone, someone who didn’t deserve him.

 

‘Have you got his number?’

‘Really?’

‘Yes, really.  Have you got Timothée’s number?’

‘Yes.  But I can’t give it to you unless I ask him first, I only have it because of work.’

‘Don’t be stupid.  Give it to me.’

‘No. You chucked him at the airport and expect to crawl back into his bed?’

‘Harsh and not true, I didn’t chuck him because we weren’t…aren’t dating.  We’re just…’

‘Semantics. No.’

‘Sylvie, I made a big fucking mistake…I forgot to check I had his number…I should have told him that I was just fulfilling an obligation by going to Caesar’s.  I wanted to spend time with him, but I don’t know…he’s…a…I was trying to avoid…I don’t…I wanted to fuck him and then I found out that he was nice, and actually fucking shy.’

‘I told you he was nice, Armie.  You are just messing him around.  You should have checked that you had his number, didn’t you give him yours?  You wanted to stay in touch?  How was he supposed to do that if you flipped him off?’

‘I didn’t flip him off.’

‘You did, you let him go without explaining what was going on.  And you told him you were going to an upmarket pick-up joint.  What was he supposed to make of that?  You didn’t even tell him when you might next see him.  You just let him go out of the airport without saying anything.  And, you could have cancelled. What else do I have to say before you accept responsibility?’

‘Responsibility for what?’

‘I give up. See you around Armie.’

Armie really couldn’t see what he had done wrong.  All he had done was forgotten to get Timothée’s number, a simple error that was now costing him.  Timothée could ring him or text him or WhatsApp him. He’d had no intention of sleeping with Chris, he was just going out for what he hoped was a pleasant evening out.  Not everyone went to Caesar’s for sex, it was equally an interesting way to spend an evening with friends.  If Stephen and Richard had boosted him to Chris, well, that wasn’t his fault.  He had made one mistake, and now he had two people cross with him.   Well, he hoped Timothée was cross with him, because that would mean that he cared about him.

He was sitting in his LA apartment, wasn’t sure what to do. He could ring a few people to see if there was anything interesting to do or he could look for a fuck. His heart wasn’t into either, he knew that what he really wanted was to talk to him.  He didn’t even know where he was, their schedules did not cross at all, and the cabin crew on the Hong Kong and Shanghai routes were people that he did not know well or at all, they had not heard of Timothée, he asked for him and was met with a) smirking or b) disinterest.

It was a Thursday night, he decided to settle down with a book and some music, putting on his Sonos, streaming Spotify from his iPad.  He found himself playing the classical playlist he played in the car with Timothée, it was soothing and a comfort.  He got up from the sofa to make some hot chocolate, he liked to make it fresh, put a small pan on to heat the milk and started to grate some hard cocoa, he liked the mild bitterness of real chocolate, he would add one very small spoonful of brown sugar and one tablespoon of the cream he kept frozen for this use.

The phone didn’t beep when the message he was hoping for arrived. Notifications were switched off, he only switched them on for work emails and texts, and he wasn’t at work, everybody else could wait until he was ready to look at his phone.  He didn’t understand the fascination with Social Media, it had a purpose, or several purposes: advertising, advertising and advertising, he wasn’t product so he would not willingly contribute to somebody’s else profit, only participating on his terms which mean that he restricted viewing of posts and messages to just several times a day, normally morning sometime, lunchtime if he had lunch and bedtime.  He had them all, Facebook, Instagram, Twitter and some lesser forms which he only joined to maintain contact or an interest. Unaware, he carried on with his hot chocolate, which when made he took into the living area to drink, and laid on the sofa alternatively trying to read an article on the effects of jet lag on air crew and a book he’d initially thought interesting.  He read fitfully until eleven, turned everything off in the living space and kitchenette, ran a bath added some special bath stuff, lay there for half an hour until the water cooled, got out, rinsed out the bath, had a shower to warm up which further wrinkled his skin, dried himself and then used a very light oil on his body to prevent his skin from scratching and went to bed. He opened his phone to view the few messages he had received.

And found a dick pic from a private number. No message.  He recognised the dick, it was erect, rosy, and not especially slim, unlike its owner.

Plus a Whatsapp group with details of a private Instagram account and a private Twitter account.  He joined them.  There were no posts, and no more messages that night.

He went to sleep smiling.

 

For the next couple of days there were no more pictures of dicks, instead pictures of places in LA that he didn’t know but recognised.

On Sunday night a message:

> Chinatown.  You have to take me here for a date.

> When?

> Now you want to take me out, last time I saw you, you went off to have sex with another man.

> You just asked me to take you on a date.

> I didn’t, I just said that you should.  That is not the same.  How’s your new fuckmate?

> I am not fucking anyone.

> Liar.  You can tell me the truth.  Didn’t you enjoy it?

> I am not lying.  When are you next back in LA? Or Melbourne?

> la.

> Timothée, I want to take you out on a date, don’t la at me. We need to talk, when are you around?

> Am nowhere near. Have moved base to Sydney.

> What…OK…Why?

> Because I did not want to see you.  You fucked off with another man.

Armie couldn’t answer straight away, in fact he didn’t know how to respond. A moment’s respite.

> I can come to you.  I am in Melbourne next week, I’ll drive up.  I only have four days though, means I can only spend one day with you realistically. Wait, I could fly, that would be quicker, we would have longer together.

> Nope, I think we can talk like this for a while.  I don’t trust you.  You were going to fuck me and you ran off.

Armie couldn’t deny this, this was at heart true.  And he still hadn’t made up his mind, logically there was no reason not to go full steam ahead with Timothée, something was still holding him back.

> I know. I haven’t worked out myself what the fuck is going on with me.

> Are you fucking anybody?

> No.

> Good.  I am going to take you at your word.  Don’t fuck anybody else.

> OK.

> Do you mean it?

> Yes.

> Good night. Sleep well Baby.

Armie signed off with

> Sleep tight Darling.

He sent a dick pic with a message

> Something to be going on with. It belongs to you now.

He was happy.

 

‘Hey’

‘Hey’

‘It’s been a while. What are you doing? Thought I would check in with you.’

‘Nothing much.  It’s Sunday, thought I would do all the chores as I won’t be around much this week.  Have all the usual stuff to do, as well as going over the flight plans for Tuesday.  What are you up to?’

‘I don’t know why you won’t get someone in to do the chores for you.  It’s not like you can’t afford it. Seems like a kind of punishment to me, what’s the fun in cleaning and hoovering?  Do you want to have some real fun later?’

Armie knew what “real fun” meant, he’d have to decline, gently.  He laughed softly.

‘Always straight to the point, that’s what I like about you Chelsea.  What happened to the boyfriend?’

‘He’s away, and is not back for another week, he wasn’t here when I got back.  It’s been ten days, I need something and I thought of you.  You nearly always oblige and you’re good, I could do with a…’

‘OK, stop.  I can’t help you out this time.’

‘What do you mean you can’t, what’s going on?  You don’t have a boyfriend, or girlfriend.  Wait, have you got someone? Who is it?’

She could hear the smile.

‘Nothing doing, I am keeping this to myself until I know what it is.’

‘You already know what it is, otherwise, you would be jumping into an Uber. He or She?’

‘Literally LOL.  Not saying.’

‘Do I know him?’

‘No.’

‘Where did you meet him.’

‘Caesar’s’

‘When?’

‘The other day, I haven’t slept with him, he’s a newbie, I am giving him half a chance before I fuck him.’

‘Who says you are going to fuck him, newbie or not, he might prefer to fuck you.  Do you think you could cope with that?’

That put Armie deep into thought, to fuck or be fucked, that was the question…he laughed.  He really didn’t mind.  For the right person, he wouldn’t mind being fucked, proof was the idea floating in his head and his body beginning to feel like this was a very acceptable idea. Possible scenarios began to frame in his mind. His hand involuntarily went downwards, only halted by:

‘Armie?’

‘Hey.  Sorry, a bit distracted.’

‘Horny.  Come round I’ll sort you out.’

‘No. sorry I promised.’

‘What!  Armie Hammer promising to stay celibate and exclusive.  What the fuck!  Who is this person?’

‘He’s special.’

‘OK…I can’t let that go.  Want to come round for lunch tomorrow?’

‘OK. Lunch right?’

‘Yes, Lunch only’

‘See you at 1.00pm, no carbs, it’s one of my days.’

‘OK. See you tomorrow Armie.’

‘Bye.’

 

‘I told Chelsea I had met someone.’

‘Really, have you?’

‘Fool, it’s you.  I had to tell a lie I don’t want anyone to know about us yet.’

‘A lot of people already guessed.  I’ve had comments.’

‘Really?’

‘Yes. I kissed you goodbye, remember.’

‘Anyway, I am telling you in case she says something to you and you think I am cheating on you.’

‘umm…cheating on me…does that mean that we are exclusive?’

‘Idiot, of course we are.  Otherwise I would have fucked her.’

‘I wasn’t sure.’

‘Timothée, we had this conversation.  I told you my dick was yours.  Go back through your messages, it’s there in black and white.  I do not send dick pictures.  Let me repeat that, I do not send dick pictures.  I am trying to be good, for you and I want you alone.  I have a bit to make up for.  I don’t know if I actually said this, but I’m sorry I let you go off that first time without saying anything.  I wasn’t going to sleep with Chris, but I wanted to go.  I didn’t see…I don’t see…I want to hang onto my friends…and go out when I want and not having to account for my actions…I meant I wanted to…I mean…oh God…I have to find a way of including you without losing myself…It’s difficult.’

‘Not really, either you want me in your life or you don’t – it’s simple.  What am I to you?’

‘Potential.  Not reality.’

‘Oh…see now it’s difficult….’

‘What have I said now.’

‘Sometimes you are stupid.’

The line went dead.

What did he say?  He unpicked the conversation, a few words came back to him: ‘…trying to be good…go out when I want…Potential…’

Timothée was right, what was his intention?

 

> Sorry.

> What for?

> I don’t know, I am stupid sometimes, the words get away from me.  I wasn’t thinking.

> Yeah, think about what you said.  What’s your intention?   What do you want from me?  I don’t think you know.

> Let’s not fight.

> Not fighting, discussing.

> Sounds like fighting to me.

> I’ll call you later.

 

He didn’t call.  An IG story arrived.  He was lying on his bed, the camera must have been above him, he was side on, back visible but body curled, head tucked in, knees into his body.  Soft.  Armie wanted to take him into his arms. Timothée opened up his body, rolled onto his back, smiled and curled up onto his other side. He was glorious and he had given Armie a 360 of himself. A metaphor and a caption: Nothing to hide.  I know what I want.


	6. Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things move on, they start establishing things.
> 
> This is fiction, I do not know them and as far as I know Armie does not know how to fly a plane.

‘Can you give me a month off please and then transfer me to Sydney?  I might go back to Melbourne eventually but I need to be in Sydney for at least the next three months.  Do I need to bid the flights I want or can you schedule me in?’

The schedule controller looked at Armie.  He knew him well, any change like this was significant.  Melbourne wouldn’t want to lose him, he was a good pilot, reliable and well-liked.

‘What’s the problem, can we help?’

‘No problem.  Something…someone I want to be near. Is it possible?’

‘Well, I’ll see what we can do.  There’s probably somebody we can swap in for a month, it’s the months after that might be more problematic.  We’ll get back to you Armie, stay safe and let us know if there is anything else we can do for you.’

Armie had already let his apartment, he had found a six month rental on an apartment in Sydney; it was more expensive than the rent he was getting for his place. He would just have to suck up the difference.

 

‘Would you move in with me?’

‘LOL.  NO!’

‘Why not?’

‘I don’t know you.’

‘A few months ago you wanted me to fuck you.  Now you don’t know me?  We have been dating, I know it’s cyber dating for three months.  I think it’s at least time to meet again, I want to touch you.’

‘Meeting for dinner or lunch, is different to moving in.  Touching is still not allowed.  Remember you were going off to fuck another man.’

‘Timmy, I was not…what is the matter with you?  I was never going to fuck him.  I keep telling you, I have not slept with any one now for over three months.  My dick is fucking shrivelled.  I can’t get aroused any more.  It’s fucking sleeping.’

Soft laughing.

‘Not true, you were hard for me last night, you sent me stories of you coming.  And your milky chest afterwards.’

‘That was metaphorical, it is shrinking it needs some proper action, the hand is getting boring, I need to fuck.  Or if you want you can fuck me…you’re privileged you know that?  I don’t normally like being fucked.  I’m not sure I can take your dick, it looks…’

‘hmmm…’

‘Are you embarrassed?’

The phone notified an incoming video call on Skype.  Armie dropped the call and accepted the request. Timothée’s face appeared on the screen, the pixels focussed into a sharp picture, his dear beloved friend and potential lover.

‘Are you serious?’

‘About what, the dick or moving in?’

‘Moving in.’

‘Yes.  I’ve moved to Sydney for at least three months, well I have a rental for six.  Where are you?’

‘LA.’

‘You told me you were in Sydney.’

‘Oops…I lied.  I am based out of Sydney for flying but I got my schedules sorted so that I can spend more time in LA, so I can see you when I am ready.’

‘You are joking, God, we are a fucking pair.  We talk every night but nobody is listening’

‘I know, this is shit.’

‘Let’s start again.  When are you coming to Sydney?’

‘Tomorrow.’

‘I’ll meet you at the airport, which flight early or lunchtime?’

‘Early, it’s the non-stop’.

‘OK.  I’ll look out for it, come to Blue Emu Floor 4, I’ll be in a black BMW, I’ve hired one, 655 YRD.  Anything I need to bring or you need to tell me?  I am coming for you Timmy, tell me now if you don’t want me to or it’s too problematic or if you’ll have someone with you and you want to meet in town.  And don’t tell me we aren’t meeting, I’m gonna see you tomorrow OK?’

‘OK.’

‘Really?’

‘Yes.’

‘Do you need anything?’

‘Only you.’

 

Armie felt nervous, like he was going on a first date as he drove to the airport.  He had been there many times, this time was completely different. As he drove onto the car park approach road, he said a little prayer, a mantra.

‘Let it be alright.  Let it be alright, just alright is fine, I’ll take that.’

Timothée rang.

‘Where are you?’

‘Just approaching.’

‘You’re late.’

‘I’m not. What time did you get in.’

‘I’m in the car park, you aren’t here.’

‘Hello to you too.’

‘They are all looking at me.’

‘Who?’

‘My crew mates. It’s embarrassing.’

‘So I suppose you don’t want me to kiss you hello.’

‘That is not funny. They don’t know I’m gay.’

Armie laughed to himself.  If they didn’t know, he could not help them.  Timothée was fey and soft.  He did not have a straight bone in his body.

‘Why haven’t you told them?’

‘It isn’t any of their business.  They only have to know how to do their work.’

‘OK…Look I am just driving in.  The signal might disappear. Shall I come to the 4th floor or do you want me to go to the next floor?’

‘5th floor , 5th floor, quick they are coming over, quick.’

Armie was laughing hard and drove up to the barrier, collected his ticket and went up to the 5th floor, Timothée was just coming through the door, his carry on case following him behind.

‘Open the door, I mean the boot, the boot.’ Armie knew he meant the trunk.

‘OK, OK.’

Armie was able to pull out quickly, he had virtually come up one level and turned straight into the exit barely stopping.  He put his hand on Timothée’s leg and squeezed as he drove along a straight lane to the exit.

‘Hello baby.’

‘…Oh Hello.’

‘Let me tell before I say anything else. I’ve missed you so much…I love you.’

Timothée turned a familiar scornful face upon him.

‘No you don’t, that is not possible, don’t be so…mind out, you nearly hit that car.’

‘Never darling, don’t say I never told you.’

They headed out onto the main road and into Sydney town centre, as they drove Timothée calmed down and turned to Armie.

‘Sorry.’

‘Why babe?’

‘I wasn’t very welcoming, pull over I want to kiss you.’

‘It’s the fucking highway there’s only a rest stop, you’ll get us both killed.  You’ll have to wait. It’ll be the first time we kiss…what is the matter with you?  Let’s wait until we get to the apartment.’

They drove in silence until they reached town, then chatting unevenly until they reached the district that Armie had rented the apartment in, the journey took 40 mins.  Armie soon pulled into an apartment block on the northern side of Sydney off Gow Street in the Balmain district.

‘I couldn’t afford Darlinghurst, there were some great apartments there but just too much money.  This is nice and it doesn’t take long to get into town.  Where are you based?’

‘A studio, on Canterbury Road.’

‘I looked there, couldn’t find anything I liked.’

‘Yeah, well you earn a bit more than me sweetie.’

Armie wondered if money was going to be a problem.

‘Speaking of which, I’ve already paid up front for the whole rental period.  I don’t want to assume anything, what shall we do about splitting the costs?  Are you going to give up your apartment?’

Timothée went into silent mode. 

They had reached the lift, Armie had the topmost apartment, not a penthouse still very nice.

‘Speak.’

‘I haven’t thought about it.  Do we have to discuss it now?’

‘Not now, but we need to talk about these things, so it does not fester and bloom.’

‘OK…that’s something that can _wait_ …I am going to kiss you in the lift’

‘I want it to be nice, you know a proper make out session.  We should leave that until we get into the apartment.  We don’t need to make it like we’re horny teenagers. I don’t want to…’

They were getting into the lift, no one was around, Armie did not even get the chance to turn round and press the button to go to the right floor. Timothée pushed him into the lift, looked for any button, pressed it and pressed himself again Armie, pushing him against the wall of the lift.

‘Fuck it. I want to kiss you.’

 ‘OK. You asked for it.’

Armie looked Timothée straight in the eye, his gaze seemed to take everything into consideration. In one look his eyes covered Timothée’s mouth, his eyebrow and his chin, all the contours of his face.  Nothing left unseen. Armie’s eyes glazed over with lust and Timothée saw it, the hunger was deeply apparent, he had never experienced anything near this before, his body went slack.  Armie’s arms came around Timothée, one around his waist, the palm in his back drifting down to squeeze and hold his ass, pushing it into his body, he rolled Timothée so that his thumb landed across the crease of his ass.  The other around his neck, clasping and drifting into his hair.  Timothée grabbed on where he could, Armie had positioned him so that their fronts were aligned, his leg pushed between Timothée’s, his hip expertly locking in and grinding.  Timothée felt Armie’s dick pressing against his, his body somehow rolling him left and right across the wall.  He hadn’t kissed him and he was breathless already.  Armie gently massaged his neck and turned his head to one side to feast upon his long neck, striping it and biting gently within the curve of his hollows.  Timothée was overcome.  Armie’s body was melting into him and absorbing him, he lost all sense of time and of himself.  Armie started to kiss and suck his neck, Timothée started moaning.  The lift door opened.

‘That will do.’

Armie unattached himself and walked off.

Timothée needed more than a moment, he was hard…and breathless.

 

‘Armie, would you mind if I slept in the second bedroom?’

Armie watched him walk past pulling his case behind him into the smaller of the two main bedrooms, he thought best to leave Timothée to make the moves from now on.  He looked as though he was in shock.

The apartment was large; consisting of three bedrooms, a large living area with two sofas and a dining table, two en-suite bathrooms, a shower room, separate toilet and a kitchen separated off from the main room.  Armie had chosen this because he wanted to be able to give them both space if it was needed.  He anticipated that there would need to be a period of adjustment and that needed space so they could escape from each other.  The third bedroom only held a single bed, it was set up with a pull down bed, and mainly used as an office with a very large screen that could be used for gaming or to watch TV.

‘Do you still want to make out?’

A small voice came from the bedroom.

‘Yes, but I can wait.’

‘OK…umm…What shall we do for dinner?’

‘I don’t want to go out, I’m tired Armie.’

Armie walked into the bedroom. Timothée had gone into the bedroom, a spacious double and lay down, the bed was too short for Armie, who looked down and queried whether or not to sit or lie down beside him.

‘Come and lie down beside me.’

Armie took off his shoes and lay down on his back, his feet hung over the end of bed, he shrugged himself up the bed and rested his head against pillow and headboard. Timothée moved closer and hooked one leg over his and an arm.

‘You can kiss me now.’

‘Come here then.’

They met half way.  Armie rolled Timothée so that he hovered over him, bent his head and brushed his lips across his face, kissing his eyes, licking the freckles on his nose.

‘umm, that tickles…’

Armie placed his mouth on Timothée’s, a dry kiss, a test.

‘Is that better?’

‘Yes. Do it again.’

Armie bent his head again, this time taking Timothée’s lower lip into his mouth, sucked on it and forced his lips apart plunging his tongue into Timothée’s open and willing mouth.  Timothée matched him and brought their lips together so he could suck Armie’s tongue into his mouth further, taste and pull him into his body.

‘Too much?’

A hoarse and breathy: ‘No.’

Armie drew back and rained small kisses on Timothée’s now swollen lips, he spread them around his face and down his neck.  He undid Timothée’s shirt.

‘Do you mind, I want to taste you again.’

A hardly there, ’No.’

Armie pulled his own shirt out of his trousers. ‘I’ll undo it, you watch.’  Timothée obliged, his eyes fixated as Armie’s fingers sensually undid the small buttons, Timothée swallowed, his mouth fell open as the last button came away from it’s hole.

Craftily Timothée slipped his hand under Armie’s shirt and caressed his nipple which stood up, Armie was mesmerised. Timothée pushed aside the shirt, flicked the bud with his tongue, nipped it and took it into his mouth.  Armie was already hissing, then groaned and placed his hands on Timothée’s head lightly guiding him, Timothée’s mouth fastened onto the nipple, sucking it, then swirled his tongue around the surrounding flesh, biting, and drawing his tongue across the hairs on Armie’s chest  then back to sucking the nipple, he was using his other hand to pinch and roughly caress the other in turn, making Armie hold his breath as he tried to feel every sensation that Timmy was sending to his body.

Armie wasn’t sure if he should let him carry on.  His dick was beginning to swell and harden, he wanted to open his legs, undo his trousers and set it free.  Things were moving on quickly, too quickly.

‘Stop…wait a minute Timmy, what are we doing here?’ Softly said, uncertain.

A pair of very dark green eyes looked up at him, lips rosy and full, spoke.

‘Nothing…’

‘We are not doing _nothing_ , this feels like a warm-up for fucking.’

‘Yeah, feels good…’

‘We are not fucking.’

‘Why not?  Don’t you want to?’ 

Timothée sat up. Not certain if he should be angry, he threw a query, watching for clues in Armie’s face. Armie responded,

‘A. We have just got here.

B. I want our first time to be considered, something fitting where we are in our relationship.

This feels like a release from...I don’t know…we haven’t done anything like this before. I want our first time to be more than just fucking or sex.’ 

That wasn’t strictly true, in fact it exactly right.  Armie felt a mixture of pure lust and something like love for Timothée.

‘OK.’

Timothée stood up.

‘Do you want some tea?’ 

He adjusted himself and walked out of the room, doing his shirt up as he went.

‘I can wait too.’


	7. Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some friends come to stay. Timothée and Armie start making decisions.
> 
> This is fiction, I do not know them and as far as I know Armie does not know how to fly a plane.

A few weeks later, and the sex question had not been answered. They had both decided to leave things open.  Not ruling it out but not forcing the issue, kissing and touching (upper part of body) was allowed, as soon as things progressed beyond this Armie got up or stood away.  Timothée was confused.  He wanted to discuss it, he invited his friend Glen and his wife Barbara to stay.  Glen also worked Cabin Crew, like Armie was married to an Australian but this time for love.  They lived primarily in Melbourne, Timothée invited them up to Sydney with hidden intent.  He wanted to talk with Glen and he wanted to share Armie’s bed.

Timothée had wrangled a few weeks off by dropping off the schedule (they were not pleased) for two flights.  The first week had been tense whilst they worked out who did which jobs in the house and discovered who was the guardian of cleaning and tidying.  It worked out that Timothée loved tidiness whilst Armie was more relaxed, meaning that if he left a cup on the window sill, he expected to come back and find it there, whereas Timothée would walk behind him and sweep it off the sill and into the kitchen where it naturally belonged, rinsed it and put it into the dishwasher.  In the end Armie learnt to put his cup something acceptable rather than having to find his half-finished drink thrown away.  Now he put it on a coaster on the low table in front of the sofa, or on the dining table, and was told not to place it near the edge because someone could knock that off and ruin the rug or carpet or mess up the now clean floor.  By the second week general agreement had been reached.  Armie would hoover, wash other hard floors and clean the bathroom, Timothée would generally tidy, launder and do the kitchen.  They had a working partnership in the house, next they had to agree on money.  Timothée gave up his studio and moved his things into the apartment.

‘Are we staying here?’

‘I don’t know…isn’t it early days…what are we doing?’

‘You asked me to move in with you Armie, what do you mean what are we doing?  What are you asking me?’

‘I don’t know…I just wanted to be with you.’

‘Well, let me ask you.  Do you see us in a long-term relationship?’

‘Yes.’

‘Are we exclusive, no exceptions or time off or fucking other people, no making out with other people, mild flirting allowed, nothing else, type of thing, yeah?’

‘Yes’

‘Committed’

Armie fell silent.

‘That sounds final…I don’t know…’

‘What the fuck is wrong with you?’

This was unlike Timothée.

‘You won’t fuck me, you won’t commit but we are in or going for a long-term relationship.  How is that supposed to work?  Why don’t you tell me what you expect?’

Armie remained hesitant.  He wanted to say that he wanted everything with Timothée, anything he offered he would take.  He wanted no one else, and yet, he was scared.

Timothée saw him, saw the fear.

‘If I say that you are everything I want and that I don’t want anybody or anything else, where am I in this?

That sounds so final.  Do I have to give up anything? How much time do I have agree to spend with you.  What do I have to give up.  Who do I have to give up?’

The fear was palpable.  He wasn’t sure about his responsibilities, it’s one thing to be responsible for your own happiness, another to be responsible for somebody else’s happiness and also to care for that person, beyond the care expended on self.  It was a lot.

‘Let’s go for a walk.  I can’t answer those questions.  You know what you have to do. And it doesn’t involve giving up anything that you don’t want to.  You just have to make up your mind what is important and valuable to you.  You are right, something has to give, but it might not mean give up, it might mean spend less effort, time or money.  I can’t help you with that, I can only tell you how it affects me and if I can put up with it.

If I can’t put up with it, well I might have to ask you to stop or stop myself from feeling some way about whatever it is. We both have come to agreement and then work on whatever it is that is bothering us.  I don’t think we have known each other long enough to work out what our parameters are, I don’t even know what turns you on. You won’t show me and you won’t even show me that we have something fundamental that we can work on.  Why won’t you sleep with me? 

I don’t want you to answer that right away, think about it and come back to me.  Let’s go for that walk.’

Armie was thoughtful.  There was still a lot to he had to discover about Timothée, he didn’t even know his family.  What was the rush?  They had a lot of time to discover each other and learn what they could accept and more to the point what they really liked about each other.  There was time.  He walked to him and hugged him.

‘Why are you so sensible?’

 

Glen and Barbara arrived the next afternoon, which was Thursday intending to stay until Sunday so they could drive back down to Melbourne for Glen’s return to work on Monday with time to spare.  Timothée immediately drew him to one side.

‘Get Barbara to take him shopping.  I want to talk to you.’

‘OK…what is going on?’

‘I’ll tell you later, just get her out with Armie please.’

Glen’s wife was very obliging, she hung on Armie’s arm and dealt out flattery like it was going out of fashion, buttered him up until he did not know which way was up, and out of the flat before he realised that he was being got out of the way.

‘So how did you meet Timothée?’

They were in a coffee house, shopping abandoned.  Armie did not have the patience to wait, evident when Barbara stopped at the Chanel counter in Myer’s Department store to browse lipsticks.  Armie firstly stood to one side, then joined her while she tested the lipsticks, told her they all looked great and then went off to look at the men’s shavers at the back of the floor whilst her back was turned browsing mascaras, he found one for Timothée by an English manufacturer called Edwin Jagger, something very refined plus a Sandalwood shaving soap bar for his very soft beard. She had to go and find him.

‘This is for Timothée, what do you think?’  He had a kind of goofy smile on his face, she took it for what it meant, he was in love.

‘I didn’t take advantage of him. He was cabin crew.  ’

‘Really, what I heard was you asked him to go on a road trip with you.  That was a first date.  And beyond extra, given you didn’t know him.’

Armie blushed hard.

‘Did you fuck him?’

It was not possible to blush any harder.

‘We haven’t slept together.  We are still in early date mode.’

‘Why?  Haven’t you shared a bed.’

Armie woke up.

‘I don’t know you. Why are you asking me these questions?’

‘He’s our friend, and we look after our friends.  And he is shy.  He doesn’t date much and I don’t know how much experience he really has.  He doesn’t share those things with me, and the fact that he is asking Glen for advice means this is serious.  He can be ‘naughty’, but that means nothing.  What are your intentions?  And don’t look so surprised, you must realise that all of this isn’t, I mean our visiting, by chance?’

Barbara was direct.  He wouldn’t be able to flannel.  He was being forced into deciding.

 

Timothée took Glen’s arm as they walked down the beach.

‘I really like him Glen, but he won’t sleep with me.’

‘How many men have you slept with Timmy?’

‘I don’t know…’

‘Don’t lie…’

‘Five?…’  He answered with a question. Glen gave him a look but didn’t comment on the number.

‘You told him you’re a virgin didn’t you?’

‘Yes’

‘Why?’

‘I don’t know…’

‘More lies.’

‘I didn’t want him to take advantage, I wanted to test him. It didn’t work, cos he has left me alone. And now I am desperate for him.’

‘Serves you right. What do you want apart from taking him to bed?’

‘I want to settle with him, build a home. Be his person, the one he comes to first.’

‘Have you told him.’

‘No.’

Glen stopped to turn and look at his friend.  His face was pensive, and unsure.

‘This is the first time I ever felt like this.  I don’t know whether or not to trust my feelings.  I could be just…it may not be real.  It feels real…I don’t know.  How did you know that Barbara was the one for you?’

‘I just knew.  I knew within half an hour that she was special.  It took me a year to rationalise it and a further six months to make sure she was on the same page.  I had to ask her lots of questions to find out if we agreed on important things and to see if she could cope with me and my family.  You have only known him three months, OK four…five months.  Do you know yet if he is the one?’

Timothée wouldn’t answer, but really he knew, and he started talking through his feelings.

‘We haven’t spent enough time together.  We were cyber dating for three months, but he has moved to Sydney for me and I tried to get away from him cos I thought he was going to sleep around on me, but as soon as he asked me I came.  Neither of us know what we want long term.  It is not like a het couple, you can just get together fall in love move in quickly and no one bats an eyelid.  I feel like we have people watching us all the time. Even the people who love us question us.’

‘Timothée listen to yourself.  If one of your friends said “I am going to move in with someone that I have had one physical date with, and Facetimed.”  What would you say?  Right…I can tell by your face…You aren’t asking yourself the right questions.  What do you want from him?  And can he or does he want to give it to you?  Keep talking.  Keep asking, check in with him.  He has to tell you what he wants and if he can’t express it or show inclination that what he wants is you, well you have your answer.’

They walked in silence for a few minutes.

‘Has he met any of your friends or family?’

‘You’re the first.’

‘Good start.  Get him to LA, then let him meet your parents.  Your mother is a very good judge of character.  You have to introduce him anyway, it will be a good chance to see how he fits in.’

‘Thanks Glen.’

Timothée kissed his cheek.  Glen put his arm around his shoulders, Timothée hugged him close all the way back.  They were more than good friends, they were former lovers.

‘That’s helpful.’

 

As they walked through the door, Timothée caught Armie looking at them.  He smirked.

 

They were getting ready for bed.

‘Have you fucked him?’

‘Yes.’

‘A virgin?’

‘Yeah…’

Chuckling.

‘Come here. I am going to fuck you, you little shit.’

‘We can’t.   They will hear us.’

‘You can keep quiet.  I know how to smother, and fuck you.’

More laughing.

‘Take that off.’

Armie was giving Timothée the same look he gave him in the lift. Unmistakable, lust.

‘No…get off, you have to wait until they have gone. I can’t sleep with you when they are here. I want to enjoy it and not worry about other people being in the apartment. They will be able to tell. Leave me…don’t touch me…Armie…’

‘How will they be able to tell?’

‘Cos you have a big fucking mouth.’

‘I won’t say anything.’

‘Armie, you are very expressive, you will grab me or do something that will mean they will be able to tell.  They know we don’t fuck.’

‘Why did you tell Glen?’

Timothée fell silent. Armie was sympathetic.

‘I told Barbara too… come here…’

Timothée came to him, a dry kiss and a hug. 

Then to bed.

Peace.


	8. Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Armie and Timothée get the chance to discuss their situation, Glen and Barbara are able to help them.
> 
> This is fiction, I do not know them and as far as I know Armie has never flown a plane.

In the morning they drove out to get some breakfast on Bondi Beach and spent the day on the coast, doing the coastal walk and spending the afternoon on the beach before returning tired and ready for an easy evening.  They decided to go out for dinner at the Green Park Hotel, and managed to walk in as a table came free.  Armie had volunteered to drive, which meant everyone else could drink.  In reality that meant that Timothée and Barbara drank, and danced, leaving Armie and Glen to sit and chat freely.

‘She loves dancing, she is so free and direct, straightforward, it was one of the things that made me love her.  And she gets on with everyone.  I struck lucky.’

‘Where did you meet her?’

‘She came into a store, I was buying a present for my boyfriend. I turned round and bumped into her and was fucking gone.’

‘Your boyfriend?’

‘Yes.  I dated girls and boys back then.  I was definitely in a boy phase. That was why it was shocking.  Anyway, I helped her pick up the things she’d dropped when my arm caught her, we exchanged a few words, before I had even stood up I had to look at her again to make sure that I wasn’t dreaming.  She looked me in the eye and said: “Coffee?” and we went for coffee and we never stopped talking.  We finished our shopping together, can you believe that?  Spent the rest of the day together, swapped phone numbers, carried on texting to the annoyance of our partners.  Met two days later, had some clandestine dates and messing around, but essentially after meeting in the store we haven’t been apart.  It did take me a year to find out if she meant it.  Then I made her wait another six months to make sure.  We moved in together after six months.  Her parents were not happy, her friends warned her off me, my gay friends disowned me – but I found out who my true friends were and one of the them was Timothée.  He has been resolute and kind.’

‘Yeah, he’s good and he’s kind.  Ah…well…he’s just the best…Glen, how do you know Timothée?

‘I knew him before through some mutual friends, we had a thing, he was very young only eighteen I was twenty-three.  We met again when we were on the same flight, he was new to the job and I had a few years on him in experience and age.  Do you mind?’

‘Why should I mind?  He isn’t fucking you now.’

Armie did mind but he was going to be cool and not give anything away.

But his face said that he minded.

‘You don’t have to pretend, it’s awkward. Some people find it difficult to handle the idea that their lover have a previous sexual history.  You don’t have to worry, we only slept together a few times.  I was already on Cabin Crew and he was someone I picked up on a beach and returned to the next time I came into California.’

Now Armie did have a doubt.  Sexual…that required acknowledgement. Really. Picked up on a beach?  His Timothée?  Maybe he was not so innocent.

‘…he told me he was a virgin.’

‘You didn’t believe him, did you…you knew that he wasn’t…didn’t you?  I don’t mean he sleeps around…look…sorry…that isn’t any of my business.  Let’s go back to safer ground…ha...ha…ha…really he’s shy…ha…ha…ha. He doesn’t fuck around.  He told me he wanted to lose his virginity.  I am fairly sure he meant it.’

That made Armie mad.  The fucker.

‘He likes to see how far he can push…I see that he has already made you suffer.  You cannot lie Armie, your face is at odds with how you are feeling. You have nothing to worry about…that was all a long time ago…I love Barbara and I will not cheat on her.’

Armie was running heat, he was red from his chest up and short of breath, in his mind he could see the two of them…fucking.

Glen gave him a moment, looked away towards the dance floor.

‘Anyway, they won’t be long now.  They’ve been gone a few songs, they’ve had a few drinks, they are at the bar…Barbara will want her bed.  She has done well today, normally we are in bed by nine.’

‘Nine? Really?’

Armie and Timothée had got into the habit of late to bed late to rise.  It would be hell when they had to go back to a proper schedule for work.

‘What do you do when you go to bed at nine?  I don’t mean that quite how it sounds…sorry…I just wondered…you know…I mean you spend a lot of time together…’

Glen laughed.

‘We read, watch a bit of telly, talk to each other, yeah sometimes we do make love all evening, tho’ that is rare now…and finally sometimes, just sleep.’  Another laugh. ‘Don’t you ever get that way with Timothée? It’s one of the joys of being someone who you know you want to spend all your time with…and who wants to spend all their time with you.’

‘OK…No…well…he probably told you anyway.  I am having difficulty actually…’

‘What you want to but you can’t?’

‘No. Everything works…’ Armie laughed but looked wistful. ‘No problem getting interested…I just…I just…how did you know that Barbara was the one?’

‘He asked me that too…what is wrong with you two? Don’t you know if he is the one for you.’

‘Yes.  But it seems too soon.  I don’t know him and yet I do.  And we haven’t had sex. I kind of put him out of reach in a way, he’s special…to be treated as…idealised.  Honestly?  I never had a long-term regular partner. I can get sex anytime I want, and I have tended to treat that like, there’s fucking and then there is making love.  I don’t know that I understand the difference and there are other things outside sex that I can’t get my head around.

I am used to having my own way, doing what I want, beholden to no-one, then he turns up and it has all gone to shit.  I don’t even make sense to myself anymore. I don’t want to spoil it.  We have this crazy dance going on, one night he will practically tear my clothes off and I refuse him, another night I try to make him realise that he can’t manage me and fend him off by being very overtly sexual, but the truth is I can’t manage myself at the moment.  I don’t know what to do.’

‘Armie, you are in love – it knocks you sideways.  Haven’t you been in love before?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Then the answer is no.  You have to show him that you love him, and the simplest way is to put him first.  That doesn’t mean that you subjugate yourself, he becomes the centre of your world but your world does not have to shrink.  The more love you have, the more people you can accommodate, the people on the outer edges just get less of you. He gets the most.  Does that make sense?  There is always more love available than you can handle or dish out.

And don’t worry about the making love versus the fucking thing.  It’s OK to want both, you should want to fuck him and then other times it has to be tender, you can have both.  He should make you feel like you want to devour him, when you feel safe with him you won’t be able to help yourself.  Ask yourself the question, do you feel like you could be your real self with him, and he would accept whatever face you put in front of him? That includes the one that wants to fuck right now, the one that just wants to sit on the sofa with a hot chocolate _and_ the one who hasn’t washed all day and still smells of sex and is being turned on just by sitting next to you.’ 

Barbara and Timothée were heading back to the table.

‘Who wants a drink?’

‘I’m tired, baby let’s go back home.’

Timothée’s eyes widened, Armie had called him _baby_ in front of their guests.  He came round and got into his lap.  Glen and Barbara walked off, it was a tender moment. Armie opened his legs so he slipped into his crotch and onto his dick which was semi-hard. Timothée was unembarrassed and made a guttural sound, put his arms round his neck and kissed him, properly, for a long time.

‘OK, let’s go.’

Time was standing still.

 

‘Will you hold me Armie?’

Timothée snuggled and turned over so they could spoon, a second night of peace.

At three in the morning, Armie woke from a vivid dream, Timmy was riding him, as his eyes opened he climaxed.  He had to get up to change.

‘What’s the matter?’

‘Nothing, go back to sleep.’

‘Why are you running water?’

‘No reason,’

‘Did you have a wet dream?’

Armie blushed.

‘You did didn’t you?’

‘OK, OK, now I am embarrassed…I am not a sixteen year old for fuck’s sake.’

‘It’s normal. Were you dreaming?  What did you dream?  Come here and tell me.  Don’t wash, I want to smell you.’

Armie wiped his dick and stomach with tissues and got back into bed.

Timothée took a good deep breath.

‘umm…you smell nice …I nearly forgot what you smelt like after sex.’

They were whispering.  Timothée turned again and Armie gathered him back into his arms, one leg thrown over his body, Timothée’s head tucked into his neck, they settled and got comfy.

‘You were riding me.  You sat facing me, I had my hand on your dick. Your hand was…well I am too embarrassed to say what your hand was doing.  I woke just as I was beginning to come, it was too late to stop myself.’

‘Do you do that often Armie?’

‘What?’

‘Dream…have sex dreams?  I used to get them all the time.  Now nothing, even when I am frustrated and horny…nada…nothing.  Do you look at gay porn?’

‘I am too old for sex dreams…they started again because I am not having sex, a Freudian fucking reminder…when I do have sex I think they’ll stop…and no I don’t look at gay porn…as you would say, mostly it is nasty...’

‘What are we doing Armie?’

‘Stop asking me that question, I can’t answer it.  All I know is I want to get to a place where I feel comfortable.  At the moment, I know I want you.  I want to meet your friends and your family.  I want to get to know you properly, I want to know what makes you happy.  And, I don’t want you to tell me, I want to find out and do those things.  But I can’t work out how and I feel like an idiot, I love you Timothée…shh…don’t say anything let me speak…this is the first time I have been in love and I don’t know how to do it.  I feel like I don’t want to spoil you and that is partly why I don’t want to sleep with you, cos’ if I did that it I feel like that would mar what we have, which just now is pure and unspoilt.  I feel like once we have sex we’ll have let the world in and everything will change and not in a good way.  You’re special to me and I don’t want to spoil what we have…that and I am saving myself too.’

‘Armie?’

‘Yes.’

‘Do you like fucking?’

Silence.

‘I gathered from our conversations and that conversation with Frank that you love fucking. I like it too, so please let’s just get it over with and then we can go from there.’

‘No.  If we are going to have sex, or make love I paid attention to what you said, we’ll wait until Glen and Barbara go, then we will spend the day in bed.  How does that sound?’

‘Finally…’

 

Glen and Barbara left on Sunday as planned but not until 11.00am by the time Armie and Timmy got back from the airport it was past lunchtime. They spent rest of the day relaxing after their visitors had finally left.  They had enjoyed the company and the chance to express themselves and start to work out what they needed from each other, but they also needed some time to rest.  They needed time to digest their feelings, their conversations and feelings got deeper even in the short time their friends had been and gone.  They decided to go out for Sunday lunch and spent the afternoon down at Centennial Park, picnicking after buying some food at a supermarket.  On the way back Armie stopped and bought food for more than a few days, which was unusual, normally they bought food as they felt or ate out.

When asked he just said it would be more convenient than shopping on a daily basis that week and averted his eyes.  Timothée had a good idea what he was up to.  Armie also bought in a good supply of drink. They wouldn’t need to leave the apartment until the end of the week, and if they did run out or get bored of cooking they could get food delivered.

When they got home very late that afternoon, Armie opened a bottle of whisky and got drunk.  Timmy just watched and waited, he knew what was happening.

He poured every single bottle of alcohol Armie bought down the sink when Armie fell asleep on the sofa.  And went to bed in Armie’s room which was now their room.

Gentle snoring, alcohol sweating, not very nice smelling Armie.  Timothée pushed him over to one side of the bed.  Armie rolled back and tried to get close.

‘Nope.  You are drunk.  Go back to sleep.’


	9. Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Easter, so multi-chapter posting, one each day.
> 
> The boys are having a moment of domesticity, things have to be agreed and organised.
> 
> This is fiction, I do not know them and as far as I am aware Armie has never flown a plane.

On Monday, they had the chores to do and had to sort out bank accounts and contact their schedulers, they only had the rest of the week before they both had to return to work.  Armie definitely had a certain number of flying hours, landings, and take offs he had to complete over the year and being off for a longish time meant he had to go in and do a simulated flight to ensure that he was on top of things– recency or current experience was mandatory.  Timothée just had to check if he was on a rota that fit in with Armie’s, his limits more about not exceeding the number of recommended hours, although Armie also had to watch out for his maximum hours too.  They might find that the next few weeks they would be on schedules where they were not on the same continent at the same time, they could bid for what they wanted but given that schedules were normally set month by month, they would be lucky if they ended up on the same flying pattern let alone the same flight in this immediate period.

 

‘Should we try to always get on the same flights?’

‘I don’t know Timmy.  Probably not, let’s just try to get on the same flight patterns.  Do you think I should say that we are living together ? Would you mind?’

‘Don’t tell anyone.’

‘But if we tell them, they can try to schedule us more effectively.  They try to help me Timmy.  Perhaps you should tell someone you can trust or I can tell Alan and he will help where he can.  He offered to help me when I told him I had someone I needed to be near – I didn’t tell anyone that I was moving in with you.  There are several married couples who get scheduling help.  I know we aren’t committed in that way but they might show a little sympathy.’

‘OK, tell Alan – no one else.’

‘Timmy, when are you going to tell everyone about us?’

‘I’m not planning to tell everyone.  Only people that are close and certainly not the whole crew, it’s none of their fucking business.’

‘When am I going to meet your parents?’

‘When we get to LA, they are four or five hours drive, which is doable from the airport. They have lived in Las Vegas for a few years now. My dad is still working at the University, Mom has cut her hours, the office runs itself. We’ll drive there from the airport, spend the night and come back to LA in the afternoon, that way we get at least a day to ourselves.  I told them we are coming.’

‘Oh, OK – you didn’t tell me.’

‘You anxious about it?’

‘No…mildly surprised.  I wasn’t expecting you to just organise it…I’m pleased.  What do we need to do, shall I buy your Mom a present or will flowers do?’

‘Wow…no need to go mad, we are dating not marrying.’

‘I want to make a good impression, by the time we get there, you know…’

‘You know what…’

‘Can we share a bed?’

‘Yes, I told you my parents are liberal, they don’t care.’

‘OK.’

‘I’ll ring them later to confirm everything, you can talk to them.  What about your parents?’

Armie considered things for a moment, not really thinking but just gave himself time to answer.

And thought a little longer.  A thinking process was going on in the back of his head.  The conscious part of his brain was very wary.

‘I’m a little anxious about it.  They know I’m gay or mostly gay, but they haven’t had to face it.  Don’t get me wrong I’m going to introduce you to them but I am worried about how they, my Dad, will behave.  It will either go well or be disastrous.  I need to prime my Mom.  I’ll call her, in fact while I am in this mood, I’ll call her now.’

 

‘Hey Mom, how are you?’

‘Why hello Armie, how are you darling, is everything alright?  I miss you, hearing you.  Is work OK?’

His Mom knew that Armie’s focus in life centred on his work, she knew he had sexual partners but had given up on asking about a love mate.  She loved her son but recognised that the relationship with his father had coloured his life and influenced how he approached relationships.

Armie went quiet, there was a long pause.

‘Armie, are you OK, what’s up?’

‘I met someone.’

‘OK, met someone as in met the one?’ Realisation hit her: ‘What! Who?  OK. Are you happy?’

‘Yes, I am very happy.  He’s here.  We kind of live together.’

‘OK, I might need to sit down, wait a minute.’  His mother moved to a chair at a table, she settled, wishing she still smoked.  This was unexpected, hoped for but unexpected.

‘What’s his name?  Wait.  Where did you meet him? You might as well give me the whole story.’

So Armie did.

‘Let me speak with him.’

‘Hello Timothée, how nice to talk with you.  How are you?’  Armie has been telling me about you…’

Timothée was gracious and charming, the shy and gentle boy came out.  From a distance, Armie’s mother also fell for him.

‘Give me back to Armie darling. Welcome to our family.’

‘Armie?  When are you bringing him home, it’s time.  Never mind your father, we can lock him up somewhere until you leave…ha…ha…ha…I know you’re anxious about Timmy meeting him, aren’t you?  Don’t worry.  We can work something out.  When are you next in LA?  When are you are meeting Timmy’s parents?  I know you are seeing them next.’

‘I don’t know…umm…wow, a lot of questions Ma, I’ll have to check the schedule.  Thanks Mom.’

‘What are you thanking me for, idiot boy – you know I love you, if you love him I will love him. I trust your judgement Armie, you are good with people and at working them out, and as long as he is with you he will always be welcome in our home.  Bring him soon.  Your brother is gonna go wild, I can’t wait to tell him, you have fallen _into_ grace. Gotta go, your father is asking why I am on the phone so long, don’t worry I’ll tell him and I’ll work on him.  Give Timmy a kiss for me, bye darling, bye bye bye.’  She hung up.

‘Wow.’

‘What did you expect, she loves you idiot.’

 

The rest of the day was spent doing household type things, and being domestic.

 

‘Look at us, we are regular domestic bunnies..’

‘What are you talking about?’

Armie pretended to be scornful but in truth he rather liked it.  He crashed into the mood by asking how they should split the cost of everything.

‘How much do you earn Timmy?’

‘I’m not telling you.’

‘You contrary son of a bitch. How are we going to split the cost of living here? I need to know. We should share the costs we don’t have to split everything, you can pay for some things I can pay for more or most. I am just trying to be fair.  I’ll tell you how much I earn.  It’s between 100 and 150,000 dollars a year.’

‘Fuck…you are rich. I only make 50 grand including per diems and compensations, well that is what should make in this new role but I have already eaten into that with this break…’

‘That’s not a bad salary Timmy, a lot of people your age don’t get that – you’ve worked hard and you have a lot of responsibility.’

‘True, don’t solve how we are going to split the costs though.’

‘Let’s go through the bills, I made a list of all the likely items…I used the list from my previous apartment and also the dates – we need to get the date when payments go out right as well…hmm…let’s see…I’ll draw up a matrix, I mean a table…where’s my laptop…oh, here it is…’

Armie bent his head in concentration.

Timothée looked at him.  His heart was bursting, all the feelings he held for Armie came to the fore.  He reached out and brushed Armie’s hair with his fingers, Armie glanced up at him eyes first, soft, a little smile then back to working things out.  The words I Love You wanted to be formed, he couldn’t say them but he felt it and Armie felt it too.  Armie could wait for him to voice them, he saw how Timothée felt and that was all he needed to know.

‘What do you want for dinner?  I’ll cook.’

‘uhh…umm… there’s some stuff in the fridge, we shopped remember – go for it.’

 

Armie finished his table, he’d worked everything out.

‘We are staying here, aren’t we?’

‘Yes, at least for six months, let’s see how we go – I kind of feel it might be nice to be closer to the centre, I’d feel more like we are right in the centre of things, this is a bit…I don’t know.’

‘I know what you mean, my last apartment was closer to the centre of town, but I like it here and we are not far from town or the beach.  Don’t you like it Timmy?’

‘The people here are older and more settled, I feel like if I wanted to just go out my options are limited. If I want to go into town, get drunk and walk home I can’t.  I don’t know what my friends would think…all settled, boring…’

‘If you want to fuck a thirty-five year old, you have to live with old people.’

They looked at each other, and burst out laughing.


	10. Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Armie & Timothée have an early night.
> 
> This is fiction, I do not know them and as far as I know Armie has never flown a plane.

They had a light supper, they had nothing else to do, the days were counting down, it felt like they had just a couple of days left the time when the name of days has gone past but the dread of days to come has started. A time to hurry and yet no compulsion to speed up.  Armie had found an old bottle of sherry hidden by the previous owners, they’d a couple of glasses of the fino, sitting on the sofa together. Armie sat more or less upright, and Timothée lay across him seemingly waiting for something to happen.  Armie wasn’t sure what. Timothée spoke:

‘It’s half nine…shall we go to bed?’

‘What for? Oh…OK…lets…’

‘Do you want some music?’

Armie thought about it…he had just the right playlist, a mixture of soft music from a variety of artists, some R & B, some opera, mainly love songs and some instrumental music.

‘I’ll bring the Google home into the bedroom, we should buy one for in there…what?

‘I don’t know…you…you are a mixture of shy, romantic, pragmatic and thoughtful. I’ve noticed you’re considerate Armie, you don’t always put me first but you think of what would be right in the situation and you always ask me.  I feel your care for me. I appreciate it.’

‘I have some way to go Timothée, I find it difficult…’

‘Shh…just accept the compliment.’

Some cursory tidying, the water jug topped up, clean glasses.

‘I’ll go in first.’

Armie went into the bathroom, ran the shower first and then brushed his teeth.  Whilst he washed he looked at his body. It wasn’t too bad, he could lose ten pounds easily, probably twenty if he was honest. He was tall, he hid the excess well.  He thought about trimming extraneous hair and cutting his nails so got out of the shower and did a bit of personal grooming the things he noticed he took care of.  The lube and condoms were already in the bedroom.  Fuck.  Lube and condoms, yes this was a thing that was happening.  He brought the lid of the toilet seat down, sat on it and gave himself a moment of internal discussion, mainly calming down and reassurance that everything would be OK, he got up when he realised that whenever he made love to Timothée it would be the first time and possibly not going to be good.  Best to take whatever he got and give the best experience he could to this man he cared so much about.  He didn’t bother to get dressed, he was beginning to anticipate and plan, and his body recognised the urgency and was responding.  He opened the door into the bedroom, Timothée was sitting on the bed, as he went past a hand stroked and held him, he stood for a moment - it undid him.

‘Don’t take long.’

He realised it was time and now it was here he realised he wanted Timothée very badly and had for a long time.

He didn’t touch himself, he waited for Timothée to come back.

‘Do you want the light on?’

‘Let’s just have the side lights on.’

‘OK. Do we need anything else?’

‘No.  Why are you being so practical? Come to bed.’

And like that they made love.

‘It’ll be better next time.’

‘That was perfect Armie. Perfect for where we are.  I don’t want anything more.  Can you hold me.’

 

‘Where are you going?’

‘Toilet.’

‘OK. Let me come with you.’

‘Kinky.’

‘I want to know everything about you.’

Timothée followed Armie into the bathroom and watched as he used the toilet, Armie strangely found it comforting and was unembarrassed.   This man wanted nothing hidden.  Timothée took his turn, taking Armie’s hand and holding it whilst he went, he completed his toilet.  Armie watched his naked lover, and started stroking his dick, he felt raw, visceral driven by his body.  He didn’t want to make love.

‘I want to go again.  I want to fuck you.’

‘OK.  Lets…uhmm...tidy...’

 

This time was different.  It was sex. Before they had brought each other to orgasm but not actually fucked.  It was time.

‘Put your hand on it, stroke it hard…That’s it…fuck…stop...’  He was hard and wanted to feel like he could orgasm at any time. ‘Take your hand off, lie on your back.’ 

Armie started stroking Timothée, slowly to start off.  ‘How do you want me to do this, you’re gonna have to tell me what to do.’

‘That’s good, yeah…squeeze it baby, stroke and squeeze.’  Timothée lay back exulting in the sensation. ‘Fuck…you motherfucker…yeah…keep going…’  Armie abruptly stopped.

‘On your stomach, I want to...I'm going to fuck you.’  Armie slipped his hand underneath and helped Timothée roll onto his stomach.  He took a moment to look at Timothée in the soft light, who turned his head so that he could look into Armie’s face. 

‘Go on baby, fuck me.’

Armie nearly cried, his boy was all graceful long legs, shapely back and creamy skin, soft, his ass like a peach, his balls soft and pink. He began to stroke them, Timothée began to growl, the change from his easy natured, gentle boyfriend to this wanton and suddenly demanding lover was turning him on seriously. He bent his head and began to lick him from his ass through his seam to the underside of the cock.  His tongue examined, his hands began to feel, a hand pulled at Timothée’s ass, his hole was exposed. Armie bent his head, smelt him first.

‘You are like fucking Turkish Delight, all pink and scented I want to fucking eat you.’

‘Go ahead. I don’t mind.  And make sure you eat me out good.’

Christ. This boy.  He obliged.

He striped him across his hole. Timothée bucked into his mouth.

‘Again.’

This time Armie, brought his hand into play, placing a finger in Timothée’s hole whilst licking and sucking, he began to pump his finger, added another.

‘Is that good?’

‘Oh man…yes.’

‘Tell me when you are ready.’

Armie watched, he observed his lover’s body he watched as it changed, the flush which went from his neck and ran down his back.  He pulled him over, yeah the dick was still hard, let him roll back onto his stomach, laying him out for maximum friction.

‘How do you feel baby?’

‘I’m ready.’

Armie noted how Timothée’s ass changed, he watched for signs of readiness. He felt a bit calculating, but knew that this would serve him in future.

Armie slid his body over Timothée’s.

‘Open your legs baby’

And rolled between them.

He kissed Timothée’s neck and shoulders, raised himself on one arm and used the other to wrap around Timothée’s body, taking time to press and rub against one of his nipples, when he felt the small nub rise he rolled him back and began to suck on it. The other hand went to Timothée’s dick and gently stroked.  Timothée was overcome, he had Armie’s body against him, he could feel Armie’s hard dick against his hip, Armie’s mouth was doing indescribable things to his upper body. His nipple was burning, Armie’s mouth was now at his neck variously sucking and biting.  The hand on his dick, so soft drawing out his orgasm, then down to his hole and back again.

‘Armie, I’m gonna come…I’m coming…’  And came.

‘You need to give me a signal babe, tap me or something.’

‘…take your hand off…s’sore.’

Armie noted.

Timothée lay there whilst his body relaxed and the pulsing ceased. Armie watched his lover as he came to rest, observed how his heart raced visible by the pulse throbbing in his neck, the softening of his cock how it changed in colour, how a vein in his groin sunk back into place.  He kissed him softly, missing his mouth, and catching a nose as Timothée turned his face to look at him. Timothée brought a hand round and ruffled his hair.

‘uhmm…that’s nice, thank you. Come here I want to kiss you. Your turn next, give me a…’ Rolled over and started to fall asleep.

Armie pulled him into his chest, Timothée’s back rested against him, Timothée softened and delved into Armie’s body they melded together, he pulled Armie’s arm around him took his hand and brought it to his chest first kissing the palm. Armie pushed a leg against Timothée’s ass, eliciting a soft guttural moan, got between Timothée’s legs made himself comfortable and slowly fell asleep himself.

When Timothée woke at 10.00, he could hear the coffee machine going and general breakfast noises in the kitchen, he lay there waiting.  A few moments later, the door opened and a tray led into the room.

‘Wake up Timmy…wake…’

‘I’m already up…’

‘No, you’re not…I’ve made breakfast.’   Armie was still nude.

‘Weren’t you frightened?’

‘Of what?’

‘Burning that beautiful dick.’

Armie set the tray on the chest of drawers, it hung precariously off a corner.  Walked over to the bed lifted the sheet got back in and started kissing Timothée.

‘Sorry, morning breath – do you mind.’

‘No.  I love all versions of you.  Lie on your back I want to suck you and put my hands on that beautiful dick…which is…getting hard…pay you back. Come here…feel…I’m getting hard just thinking about it.’ 

Armie smirked with pleasure.

‘Jesus, aren’t you tired!  Three times last night.  Oh God, this is something I could get used to.’

‘No.  I am young and the epitome of virility…ha…ha…ha…Plus I slept very well, thanks to you. Come here…’

Breakfast was eaten cold.

‘We still haven’t fucked.’

‘I know, never mind, we’ll get there – I am not complaining Timothée.  What we have right now…I can’t tell you how happy you make me…Now get on with sucking my dick…it’s ready for you…’

 

In the event, they didn’t get to Timothée’s parents for another month, neither did they get to spend much time in Sydney.  Timothée gave up his sharing arrangements with other cabin crew and moved his things from his LA base into Armie’s apartment.  That way they were always at least based in one place.  Armie decided to pay all the costs for the LA apartment, it was small virtually a studio, they would have to re-consider in time.  In the mean time the trip to Las Vegas was looming, there was a slot in their schedules which matched, but Armie was off for five days and Timothée only three, luckily it fell over a weekend, they both got into LA on Thursday night. Timothée had to be back to work on Monday Armie on Wednesday, they would have to be quick.

‘I never asked, how come you can work for Virgin Australia?’

‘My mom’s mom is Australian, I was born there but brought up in California.  She met my dad at UCLA when she was twenty and they have been together ever since.  He was twenty-one, love at first sight.  I warn you now she will be all up in your business.  Get ready.’

‘Joseph and Esther Chalamet, right?

‘Joseph and Esther Jacobs.  The Chalamet is my mother’s family name, it’s my middle name.’

‘What!  Why didn’t you tell me this before, what the fuck! What else are you hiding?’

Timothée gave him the look of old, and remained silent. 

Ten minutes later.

‘I have a sister, Clare.’

‘You little…how old is she?  Is she going to be there?’

Another look.

‘Clare’s older, She’s your age.  I was an afterthought, or a mistake…ha…ha…ha…I warned you my mother is invested.  She is going to introduce you to the family.’

‘How many people?’

‘A lot.’

‘The fuck. How many people?’

‘I don’t know, maybe twenty, as many as she could get to come.  My grandpa will be there, he lives with them.’

‘Chalamet or Jacobs?’

‘Chalamet, he mostly speaks French, his English is not so good.  I might have translate.’

‘What do you mean translate?’

‘French is our first tongue.’

Armie was stunned.

‘You mean I am going to be in a group of people all speaking French.’

‘No, they will be polite and speak English.  If they want to talk about you, they’ll converse in French and you will know.  They are not polite, they are very European.’

Armie wasn’t angry he was wild.  His anxiety ramped up.

‘You are as usual contradicting yourself, are they going to speak English mostly or not?’

‘English, they are mostly American.’

Here was something else.

‘What do you mean mostly American?’

‘Well my Mom was actually born in France, my dad’s parents are French so that is why they had a lot in common.  My Mom was born in France, her Mom immigrated to Australia.  My grandma’s boyfriend disappeared when she told him she was pregnant.  She decided to emigrate for a better life; she had mostly completed a Nursing course, so Australia took her, she got processed for an Australian passport, returned to France had my Mom, returned to Australia and lived there until she died.  My Mom got on a graduate programme exchange for Psychology students, went to Las Vegas met my Dad, when he graduated he moved back with her to Australia, they had me, stayed in Australia until I was five. We all came back and I got integrated into the American school system etc etc.  It was a bit tricky for me because I had an Aussie accent and I got picked on, but I used my fists and got excluded from a couple of schools before my Mom got me into a progressive school, and then onto high school.  I went to college, didn’t complete a degree but I got right grades, I could have gone or finished at degree level.’

Armie’s head was spinning, he wasn’t sure if he had followed everything. He tried repeating it back.

‘Grandma French, but dumped by boyfriend, came to Australia, had your Mom in France, your Mom studied Psychology, came to the US, met your Dad, you were born in Australia, but have mostly lived in the US. Is that right?’  Timothée nodded. ‘What does your Dad do?’

‘He’s an Anthropology Professor, he’s quite well known…’

Something clicked in Armie’s head.

He’s not the Professor that wrote that controversial paper criticising the federal government’s funding of overseas based research and it’s use for military operations.

‘Yes.’

‘OK.  When were you going to tell me this?’

‘It’s not relevant to our relationship…’  Timothée waited for some kind of reaction.  Armie was learning, he said nothing, but there was a great deal of mumbling and grumbling involving a number of swear words and some very dirty looks at his boyfriend.

‘You wouldn’t have come if I told you all this.  Other people have run away when I started to tell them.’

‘Because you don’t tell the fucking truth and you never tell anything straight, it is a process with you.  At the moment I am mad with you.  I don’t know why you didn’t just tell me, what do you take me for?  A bloody idiot?  No, I like you, no I love you for who you are Timothée, you don’t have to hide anything from me.  Am I clear, do not fucking mess with me again, just give it to me straight.’

‘My sister is married to David Torme.’

‘What! The singer?’

‘Yes. And my Aunt writes, you might have heard of her Diane Albright.’

‘You fucker! Are they all going to be there?’

‘Yes.  That is why I don’t talk about my business at work.  It is too much aggravation.’

‘Anything else?

‘My mother specialises in sexual therapy, she is very open – she might ask you some things…’

Armie laughed, because he knew that there was more and he would just have to wait to find out.


	11. Eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Armie meets Timothee's family. 
> 
> This is fiction, I do not know them and as far as I know Armie has never flown a plane.

‘He didn’t tell you did he?’

‘No.  He is a little fucker.’

Armie had felt immediately at home in Timothée’s family.  They gathered him up like a long lost son and he was enveloped in the family fold.  He was talking to Clare and David, he was avoiding Esther, he saw that she was circling him, he knew some deep questioning was going to happen.

‘But I love the little shit.’

His sister was observing him closely, David had shifted half a step back.  Armie sensed something had gone wrong but kept going.  The atmosphere was a little colder, Armie was hot and blasé, the room was noisy and overwhelming.

‘That’s how he is.  He’s always been an _interesting_ person.  He doesn’t bring boyfriends home, you’re the first so that is why there is all this fuss.  You’re special, did you know that?’

‘No.  Can I ask, has he always held things back, been evasive I mean?  How do you deal with it?’

‘Timothée is not evasive.’ 

Suddenly family loyalty came into play, now Armie was on his guard, the atmosphere in this particular spot had turned icy.

‘He just doesn’t share himself or information about himself or his family with people who are not important to him. He’s learnt the hard way not to be trusting. You need to show him and us, that you are worthy of his attention, if he is too much for you then perhaps you should reconsider what you are doing with him.’

She walked off and left him with David.

‘You learn quick with this family.  Either in or out, don’t diss anybody.  Take whatever is presented to you as if it is normal.  This is your first outing, be polite and keep your eyes open and your mouth shut.’

He went off to join his wife. Everybody had seemed so friendly and welcoming, now he realised he was in a room full of sharks and he was bait.

He felt a hand on his back.

‘How you doing?’

‘Badly, I think I have upset your sister.’

Timothée laughed. 

‘Did you criticise me?’

‘I asked her if you were always evasive.’

‘That was stupid. You don’t know her, why would you ask that?’

‘She seemed friendly, I thought it was OK.’

‘Fool, you don’t know any of these people.  Keep your mouth shut until you have an idea of what to say and more importantly how to say it.  Come and meet my Mom.’

‘Timmy…Timmy… oh fuck…Timmy’

‘Hey Mom, have you spoken with Armie yet?’

Timothée was yelling across the room, nobody paid any attention.  He was in fact a complete little shit, and the apple of his Mom’s eye, someone who could literally do no wrong as far as she was concerned and everybody knew it.

‘Come here I want you to talk to him, Come here Mommy, please Mommy.’

Armie’s head spun round to look at his grown up boyfriend who had this morning been sucking his dick in a bathroom stall in a petrol station, a cubicle that did not close. Mommy? Really?  Who was this person?

‘Mommy, I am formally introducing you to Armand Hammer. Armie this is Esther.  You can call her Esther.  She doesn’t mind.’

‘Never mind him. Armie, here, we’ll find a quiet corner. Timothée go and find your father, he wants to talk to you.  It’s a while since you spoke with him face to face, you both need it.  Armie, come.’

Esther was warm and probably the only ordinary person in the room.  Like his mother, she held everything together. They found a sofa at the far end of the room, Timothée brought them a bottle and two glasses, Esther shoo’d off the occupants, sat and took Armie’s hands in hers, but Armie had learnt his lesson, he did not take anything at face value in this family, twice his nerves had failed him, he waited for the next shock to hit his system.

‘It’s a bit overwhelming, isn’t it.  Both of them are handfuls.  I saw that you’d had a few words with Clare, you lasted longer than most, she can find offense in anything – did you think that you could get some secrets from her on how to handle Tim?’  She laughed softly.  ‘Welcome to the family.’ Another chuckle. ‘Don’t mind Tim.  He is showing off.  He likes to push boundaries.  He’ll calm down shortly, he only spoke like that to see how you would react.  Did he behave on the way here?  He normally has some trick or the other he performs when he travels.  I have heard all sorts.  He tells me everything.’

Armie flushed fully red, he jiggled his legs crushing them together then pushing them apart, his hands fell into his lap covering his genitals.

‘Something sexual, I guess…’

Armie’s stomach temporarily left him.

‘Where are you in the family Armie? I’m a psychologist, so we might as well cut to the chase.  Tell me about your family.  That way I don’t have to guess…let me see…I think you are the elder brother of a perfect younger brother.’

‘You didn’t guess, Timmy told you.’

‘Yes.  Ha…ha…ha…that was meant to be funny.  I’ll try something else.  Tim was telling me something of your family.  What does your father do?’

‘He runs an engineering company, circuit boards for printers and other office peripherals, what he doesn’t make he imports from Asia.  Travels there regularly, has degree paid by scholarship, speaks Mandarin, very talented technician who can mend anything mechanical, is very hands on.  Has an engineering mindset. My Mom is a housewife, he’s ten years older than her. She worked in the office he was a supervisor on the shop floor, they got talking at an office party, she was twenty one, married after six months. Her parents didn’t approve, but they stuck it out.  Still married thirty-five years later.  I was a honeymoon baby and difficult, didn’t sleep, had croup, had every childhood illness going - not strictly speaking true, but that is what it felt like to them. Cried to be picked up. Didn’t speak until I was three and then burst into a very full vocabulary which I used for arguing with anything and anyone, If I wanted anything I would point or grab.  They couldn’t send me to nursery or pre-school as I would have a temper tantrum.  But everything was right just in time for proper school where I was above average in everything except getting on with my peers.  I didn’t come right until puberty and then everything fell into place.  I have a younger brother, but you probably know that.  He was the perfect child and made up for me’

‘My gosh Armie, do you tell everybody this?’

‘No.  I am only telling you because you are:

  1. a psychologist and
  2. My boyfriend’s mother.



I am hoping you are not judging me, and also that you have a modicum of understanding.

‘I don’t have to ask what’s the issue with your Father.  That is a lot to unpack…’

‘I don’t want help with that.  There’s nothing that can be done there, I am a disappointment to my Dad, I didn’t want to go into the Company and I am gay or mostly gay.  That’s two big things already.  I don’t need any answers or solutions.  He loves me but he does not understand me.  He is an engineer and thinks all things can be fixed and if they can’t be fixed then they should be thrown away.  He can’t throw me away, doesn’t know how to mend me, and that is the end of it.

I need some help understanding how I can be a better partner to Timmy.  I am genuine about this.  We are compatible, our sex life is good, I like him it isn’t just a sex thing or something cerebral…’

‘I’ll stop you now.  I don’t know you and I don’t give advice to my children’s partners, you’ll need to work out whatever it is yourself. If it’s a real problem or you want help with resolving things with your Dad, I can get a friend to help.  I have several who can. 

I am interested in you Armie, tell me about yourself, don’t mess around with me, tell me what I need to know to make me think that you are the one for my son.  He’s telling me that you are, that he loves you and that he wants to spend the rest of his life with you.  Why?’

‘Well that is more than the fucker has told me…’

They sat talking for a long time in fact most of the evening, it was noted and Armie accepted into the family.  She was a matriarch and Armie was a son in need of love and validation, it was a perfect match.

 

‘What did your Pa say Timothée?’

‘About what?’

‘Me, you ass.’

‘Nothing…nothing that I want to tell you anyway.  Don’t worry. They love you.’

‘I didn’t speak to him. How would he know to love me?  Your Mom is great. I love her already.’

‘LOL, calm down. My dad was observing you. He likes you or he likes what he has seen, don’t worry.’

‘What time do we have to get up tomorrow morning?’

‘You mean today?  Mom’s cooking _Big Breakfast_ , so nine latest otherwise we’ll get nothing.’

‘It’s half-two, not sleepy though. What to do something?’

‘What do you mean something?’

‘You know what I mean.’

‘OK, we need to…you know… where’s your dirty shirt…otherwise Mom will…God, this feels a bit perverted.  This is my teenage bed.’

‘Don’t tell me you didn’t whack off in here.’

‘Shh…they can hear us.’

‘Really…this should be fun.  Turn over, I’m hard already, feel. I’m gonna fuck you.’

‘Armie, no lube.’

‘Yeah I know, we can use spit.  Once we get started it will be fine. Turn over. Raise your ass a bit…I’ll get a pillow…that’s it…yeah…ummm…’

Armie started to caress his ass, dropping a finger down into his hole, pressed inside and searched for the sweet spot.

‘Oh fuck…’  Timothée began to make some noise.

‘Shut up…you’re too loud.’

‘That feels fucking amazing…oh…shit…Armie…’

Armie got on up and inside Timothée.  He started to fuck him gently increasing pace and pumping harder as both bodies tightened in anticipation of orgasm.

The bed started to creak and bounce, the headboard just missing the wall.  Armie’s feet were trying make purchase with the under sheet, he didn’t want to slide off the bed.

‘Armie…they’ll hear…oh Christ…fuck that…I don’t care…that feels so good, don’t stop’

‘shh…shh…I am going to fuck you hard now.’

Something fell over.

‘Christ, get up.’

They got up, and went over to Tim’s chest of drawers, Timothée bent over it and held on to the top, Armie stood behind him, held onto his hips and starting fucking him again.  Something fell off the top.  They started laughing.

‘It’s not funny, quiet…’

Timothée was snorting.  ‘Get it back in quick, come on…’  He started stroking himself, laughing under his breath.

‘Wait…what’s that, I can’t see?  Where’s the fucking switch…son of a bitch…what’s fallen off now…shit…ow…shit…it’s your fucking shoe…shh…shh…quick…God I am so hard…Oh fuck, yeah…move back…yeah…’

He pushed himself inside Timothée who made the loudest groan.  Something else fell off the chest of drawers as it began to rattle.  They could hear movement, someone was getting up.  Armie pulled out for the second time, they both ran over to the bed and jumped back in, pulling the cover over their heads.  Two very naughty boys. Giggling. A gentle knock.

‘Tim.’  His Mom.  ‘Is everything OK?’

‘Yes, we are sleeping.’

More giggling more snorting.

‘I don’t think you are…’

She opened the door wider, took a deep breath averted her eyes and switched the light on, looking away from two very horny insolent and sheepish people obviously lying naked in bed.

‘If you want to fuck put the lights on so you can see what you are doing.’ 

She went out of the room, the main light went off.  The bedside lamp remained on, but was on its side.

‘We could have had the attic…fucked all night…but no you wanted to sleep in your childhood room…Timmy…oh fuck…yeah I’m still hard…put your…yeah…hold it baby…let’s use the bathroom…’  Armie was incoherent with laughter, and frustration.

Timothée got up, went out onto the hall naked, dick equally hard and strong, and into a small shower room along the hall…big enough only for one person…a light went on under the door of the  bedroom on the other side, he rushed back to their room.

‘You’re huge Armie, if you tear down that shower stall, I will never live it down.  People are going to talk in any case, my Mother talks too much and we made a lot of noise.  We can 69.’

He was right, the next morning there was a lot of smirking and some gentle ribbing.  In the end Timothée said to one and all:

‘We did not fuck.  Esther interrupted us. Now leave us alone.’

 

‘I have some making up to do.  Christ, I was so hard, I can still feel it now.  That was funny though, a story to tell your pals, eh Timmy.  Boyfriend couldn’t wait, broke furniture.’

Armie was sitting on the bed, putting his socks and shoes on.  They had had breakfast and after a few moments the ribald comments had ceased.

The bed was indeed broken, which was not evident until they had tried to make it up the following morning, lifted the mattress to tuck the fitted sheet right under and found that one leg of the bed needed to be screwed back into place.  Not so much broken as needing maintenance.

‘Don’t say anything, I’ll call when we get back to LA. I can’t stand the comments.  I won’t be able to live it down.  It was all your fault.’

‘Feel here…I still want you…ride me…’

‘Fuck off.’

 

They left early Sunday morning, sharing the driving, chatting amiably.  Armie had had the chance to spend time with Timothée’s father; on Saturday they went for a late afternoon beer and fries down at Du Par’s, Downtown Las Vegas, which was an old fashioned eatery Armie wanted to try out, they both spoiled their dinner by eating steak.

‘I don’t want to talk about you and Tim, Esther told me all that stuff last night _in bed_ …’

Armie didn’t blush but he did have a tremor and heat run through him from head to foot.  He looked into Joseph’s face to see what he had to say.

‘At least you didn’t break the bed, one of Clare’s boyfriends was a football player, they snuck in and broke the bed, not just a _leg_ …’

  * a sideways glance to make sure Armie caught on



‘but several slats, we had to replace it.  You are not the first, I am kind of glad you feel that way about each other.  If you don’t wanna fuck it ain’t worth it.  I fucked Esther on the first night and we have never spent a night apart.  You love my son, that is enough for me.  Right, now we have that out of the way what do you want, don’t argue I’m buying, have what you want.

What do you think of the Oakland Raiders wanting to come to Las Vegas…and don’t tell me you don’t like football…a guy like you must like football right, look at you, you are a fucking monster and handsome as fuck…the women here can’t stop looking at you…’

‘Pity I don’t give a fuck about them…’

‘Ever slept with a woman Armie?’

Armie decided now was not the time to tell Joseph he was married.

‘Yes, and I enjoyed it too. I am not adverse to sex with women, but I know what I prefer. I worked out fairly early on that I could always get turned on by a man and only a specific type of woman attracted me.  In fact my ideal woman and ideal man are very similar, I have a type, except the woman must have a handful…excuse me, that might have been sexist and derogatory, sorry.’  Armie fell silent whilst he appraised the situation.

‘A man after my own heart…’ He raised a hand to attract a waitress.  ‘Let’s order.’

Joseph was a simple man, everyone had desires and everyone had the right to happiness, Anthropology was a study of human behaviour, his understanding that the nature of man was to seek happiness however misguided meant he was an easy person to get on with, he forgave easily.  he simply got you, and he knew how to show that he cared.  More to the point he could work out what chimed, so he could empathise and use his skills to adroitly communicate and express his findings personal and professional, he just let you be.  Armie was a little overcome, Timothée was so lucky.

 

‘He gave you the we fucked on the first date story, didn’t he?  And we have never spent a night apart, right?  That is not strictly speaking true, I have more respect for myself.’  They were sitting at the dining table in the large kitchen where earlier breakfast had been hosted. Timothée looked very pained.

‘Why do you have to tell that story? It’s embarrassing.’

‘No more than you two breaking the bed.’

‘We weren’t the first.’

‘Touché.’

‘What did he buy you, Country Steak?  Made you think you were choosing the restaurant?’

‘Armie choose the restaurant.’ A large and lascivious wink.

‘I know you remember, I’ve had time to work you out, the newbies always fall for your simple man of the people schtick and all the time you are manipulating them.’

Armie looked from face to face, trying to work out what the hell was going on.

Clare and David came into the room, her eyes were shining. They were both dreamy.

‘Did you have a nice time?’

‘We didn’t go anywhere.’ Defensively. ‘We just had a nap.’

‘Just had a fuck you mean.’

David’s words came back to Armie, treat anything you come across as normal and keep your mouth shut.

Clare went to the side and put the kettle on. ‘Anyone want tea?’


	12. Twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Armie and Timothee return to LA.

‘You haven’t told me everything have you?’

Silence.

Timothée fiddled with his phone, choose some different music, looked out the window, started rubbing Armie’s leg, dug his fingers in, pressed into the line of his thigh.  Armie opened his legs to give him free rein.  He drove one footed, it was an automatic.

‘We still haven’t cracked this fucking business.’

‘I know. I think I’ll take you away.  Do you mind not having done it in full?’

‘I’m satisfied.  I like having sex with you.  We have kind of done it we just haven’t completed.  Perhaps if I fucked you we might actually finish.  Do you want to try that instead Armie?  We could have an early night.  No need to go away.  We could do it in our own bed.’

‘Yeah…the apartment…it’s bit claustrophobic – I need space.’

‘You didn’t seem to mind my old bed, it was too small, your feet were hanging over the edge.’

‘Yeah, I thought I was gonna slide off and take us both down to the floor, now that would have been something.’

Timothée’s hand had now slid up to his crotch.  Armie moved it.

‘Don’t.’

‘I thought you wanted me to…’

‘We need to stay on the road, not in the gully.’

‘Let me take it out.’

Armie started to harden.

‘You’re getting hard.  Let me take it out.’

Timothée started to stroke Armie’s leg again.  He glanced at Armie’s face.  He knew the look well.  Armie was trying to hide how turned on he was.  He carried on stroking, placing his hand over his cock and squeezing rhythmically he watched him as the flush and the dick rose.

‘You’re gonna burst out those trousers.  Let me suck you.’

‘Timothée…shit...stop…oh fuck…’

Timothée had already undone his trousers.

‘Lift up a bit.’

Armie took one hand off the wheel.  Timothée slid across his seat and bent his head and started sucking.  Armie was now very hard and leaking, the road was clear, light traffic ahead in the distance, it was still light, but late afternoon, they were still a couple of hours away from LA and Barstow was coming up.  Armie lightly held Timothée’s head, he guided it directly onto the tip of his dick. Timothée lips held his cock in place whilst the tongue swirled gripped and swiped.  Armie was groaning and slid down in his seat to give everything up to the sensation.

They didn’t hear the police siren.  Something pulled alongside. Armie was horrified.

‘Pull over.  I said Pull Over!’

Scrambling, cursing and shouting took place all the same time. Armie was just about to come, Timothée held on with his mouth and drew out the climax, had to swallow twice and licked his mouth and lips clean.  Armie’s eyes rolled in his head, momentarily he wasn’t quite sure where he was.   He knew he wasn’t driving in a straight line.

He got onto the resting area, drove along for a while to give himself time to calm down, his trousers pulled up and closed. Timothée wiped his face and sat up. They looked shambolic, rosy cheeked and guilty.  A policeman came alongside, and rapped on the window with his baton.

‘Give me your licence and insurance. Keep your hands where I can see them.’

Armie handed the documents to the Officer.

‘Get out and put your hands above your head, go and lie down over there, cross your legs.  Oh look what we have here.  Another one? Get out. Same. Get out, hands up and down on the ground, legs crossed at ankle.  Lawrie, Lawrie come, come…there’s two of them.’

‘Did you realise you were driving across the centre line?’

‘No Sir.  I was distracted.’

‘Distracted? And what was distracting you Sir?’

‘My boyfriend had his hand on my leg.’

The Policeman gave him an old-fashioned look.

‘Are you telling the truth Sir?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Did he only have his hand on your leg Sir?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well. I am going to breathalyse you or you take a sobriety test at the station’

‘On what basis?’

‘On the basis that you were driving erratically and in a dangerous manner.  And if your boyfriend was just stroking your leg, this would not cause you to drive in the centre of the road. He was only fully visible when you came to a stop, so he was not stroking your leg. Let me ask you again, did he only have his hand on your leg Sir?’

A moment’s silence.

‘No.’

‘Get up, both of you.’

‘I don’t need to breathalyse you.’

‘I know you were having Road Sex. You think you can’t be seen but you can.

This one time, I’m gonna let you go. The next time you get arrested for Indecent exposure. Think on this Sir, you did not have proper control of that car and could have caused a serious accident.  Keep that shit in your bedroom.  Go along, go on…on your way. No more blowing him in the car, it’s dangerous.  Am I understood?’

Both Armie and Timothée said ‘Yes’, apologised profusely and thanked him for being so gracious.

He turned away, his colleague snickered and joined him.  They waited until the policemen got into  their car.

‘I’m still hard. Armie, let’s stop at Barstow. I wanna fuck.’

Armie looked at Timothée, shook his head and laughed.

 

Barstow was only twenty minutes away.  They stopped and decided to spend the night at the Holiday Inn, got a room with a king sized bed and a large ensuite.  Timothée stood closely at all times, grazing his semi-hard dick against Armie, no doubt as to what was on his mind and what he wanted.

‘A decent bed. I am going to have a nap.’

‘No you’re not. Take your clothes off.’

‘You’ll have to do the work.  I’m tired and I already came.’

‘Shut up. Take everything off.  I want to look at you in the light.’

‘God, you are behaving as if we haven’t had sex in a month.’

‘Feels like it.’

Timothée was divesting himself of clothing.

‘Put on the do not disturb.’

Armie started stroking himself.

‘Come here and help yourself.’

It felt nice, not hard and not soft, pleasantly unpleasant he carried on.

‘Get over here.’

Timothée began to murmur.  There was some burbling.

‘I am so fucking lucky.’

He started crying.

‘What the fuck are you crying for?’

‘I don’t know.  I love you so much.’

‘Oh come here baby, I love you too.’

‘I am so lucky…All the men I had before you…you treat me like I’m a King.’

‘A Prince…I am the King.’

 

They fell to just lying, canoodling and chatting on the bed.  Got up at nine had something to eat, came back and prepared for bed. Armie and Timothée were lying in bed.

‘I’ll take care of you baby, what do you want?’

 ‘Don’t ask…’

Armie gathered Timothée up, he was done with being shy and over thinking. Timothée would be gone the next day and he wouldn’t see him again for nearly a week.  Armie had a fairly quick turnaround, two days off then a flight to LA only two days layover a flight back, Timothée gone for three, which mean it would be the next Sunday before they were both back in Sydney.  He was going to miss him and he wanted to show him how much.

Armie rolled him on his back

places hand on his lover’s body

brushes skin

like velvet

soft hairs on his belly

licked wrong way up

wet

air

goosebumps

plays with curls

hand pressed flat

slides down stomach

into warm creases

joins of body

flicks eyes up to golden irises

sleepy

unfocussed

sensing not seeing

turn of face

blue then green back to gold

pupils fluttering

hand pressed pushed under his body

pants down

down all the way

balanced

half on half off

band

button

pressing flesh

groaning

soft sounds

rumbling

growling

pleasure

taking hold

mouth sucking on baby’s pink nipple

tongue circling

sucking

hard

whole mouth

inner slippy

his baby’s pink flesh

cool air

wet

warm

another to feed on

back

a lick

racing contours

neck

throat

soft finger other side

pressing

breath out of body

swallow

suffocating pleasure

breathless joy

leg thrown

pressed hard

dick hard

friction

mouth seeking mouth

lower lip

tasted

fucked

no blood left

tingling

thrusting onto into

closing mouth

open for me

rosebud

tongue hard

open open open

that’s my cock

open

deep deep kissing

hands

pants

legs open closed

get them off

naked flesh upon naked flesh

hairs on Armie’s body

something special

his Armie

nobody else like him

distinct

he knows which part of Armie is touching him

a palm

hard working

soft flesh

firm flesh around his cock

locked groins

soft dark hair mingled with strong blonde

looking down

oh God

deep coral cock

damp

let me touch you Armie

who turns upon his side

hips open

groin out

reaching down

enfolding

deep coral cock

circled

fingers

thumb

a shudder

sensing

this is right

hand an instrument

joy

lazy strokes

lazy hand

his lover gathers thought

seeks control

continued stroking

continued kissing

A decision.

Stop.

face to face

strength overtakes grace

lean

long leg lifted

held open

for tasting

travelling down

ribs flesh and bones

hollows

flesh bitten

kissed painless

bitten sore

burning

travelling down

musky deep earth

fecund textured flesh

rhythmic curving

sucking tongue

running seam to seam

roll over Timmy

his smell

overwhelming

get on your knees

let me see you

pretty

what is mine?

broad of the tongue

deep darkness

black velvet hole

white velvet skin

tip of tongue

testing

pushing

withdrawn

pushing in

brushing

licking

sucking

hand on a hard hard dick

black velvet flashes

flushes

please Armie

now

body begging for satisfaction

pulsing

waiting to fall

knowledge

fullness

completion

consummation

Oh Armie…


	13. Thirteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timothée meets Armie's Family. They are rich.
> 
> This is fiction, i do not know them and as far as I know Armie has never flown a plane.

Several weeks of intermittent bliss ensued, they had discovered how to love freely and how to give in to each other physically and in their wider relationship.  Their schedules did not quite align but was sufficient for them to understand and experience how living together all the time could be.  Decisions had to be made about where they really wanted to live, they could not mess the schedulers around again, it had to be Sydney but where in Sydney was still up for debate.  They could also consider changing employers, that was a difficult ask, pilot jobs with major airlines did not come up very often and they were both used to long haul, it would be a major change in their lives if they were to change employers, move to short haul and therefore the type of plane they worked in.  More so for Armie as he would have to re-train and possibly lose income. They could have a more settled life but had not discussed if this was something they were really aiming for.  It was a lot to consider, flying charter or inland flights inevitably led to a reduced income. But first Timothée had to meet Armie’s family.  He was looking forward to this.  Armie was not. For one thing as much as he loved him he did not trust Timothée to behave himself and was nervous on the journey home.

 

Armie’s family live in Rolling Hills, California.  Timothée mouth falls more open as they draw near and ordinary houses turn into rare and pricey homes, set well off the road, gated or least shielded from the ordinary visitor. 

‘They bought when the market wasn’t so high. It’s not one of the gated properties.  Those are really expensive. We can’t afford one of those, Ma and Dad bought when houses were cheap.’

‘Cheap. Don’t apologise Armie, I’m impressed.  Our house doesn’t bear comparison.  This is really swanky. I don’t mean that…I am not really impressed…I’m lying I’m impressed.. how much is your family’s company worth?  You haven’t been telling the truth, have you?’

Armie got the side-eye.

‘The company hasn’t actually done that well recently, it might get sold.  That or diversify. It’s cheaper just to brief and buy in from overseas.  Companies don’t mind buying direct now and companies in China and Korea have people who can negotiate, and negotiate effectively with other markets, they don’t need the American markets, there’s a whole world out there.  Well, that isn’t true… but you know what I mean.  Those goods are made abroad now, the labour market here makes it too expensive to make electronic goods, it’s much cheaper to buy the whole unit and ship it here than build from component parts or make the component parts, complete the circuit boards and sell to markets here, unless it’s niche and that is very difficult and a completely different market.  Things have changed. My father is more or less retired and Viktor isn’t even working in the company.  Viktor is a non-executive director so he attends board meetings but otherwise nada.  He has his own life. He is a patent engineer, his wife is in the same field.  Makes a lot of money, he doesn’t need the family money.’

‘Neither do you.’

‘That kills my Dad.  Neither of his sons need him.’

‘All of you engineers. You are just working in different fields.’

‘Oh...’

‘Didn’t that occur to you? Are you slow?’

‘Obviously.’

They turned into the drive up to the house and approached the entrance gate which required a pin number to enter.  Armie pulled alongside the keypad.

‘I thought you said it wasn’t gated.’

‘This isn’t gated.’

‘This is a fucking gate.’

‘OK, it is a gate, but this is not a gated community. 

Timothée, once we get in please don’t swear, don’t touch me and don’t come over all fey and act as if you are my fucking boyfriend.  You know what I mean.  Please. Behave. Yourself.’

The curving smile Timothée gave him put Armie immediately on edge.  The fucker was going to give him trouble.

‘And no fucking’

‘They better not put us in separate rooms. I am not having that.’

The defiant look on Timothée’s face definitely gave Armie fear.  He looked into Timothée’s face and silently begged compliance.

‘Please Timothée, my Mom will be OK. It’s only for two nights please.’

Armie was on tenterhooks.

 

‘Hi Mom. How are you?’

‘Please be on your best behaviour, I got him to agree to be pleasant.’

She whispered as she hugged and his father walked towards them.

‘Hey Armie, how are you darling. God, I have missed you, give your Mom a hug.’

Timothée how nice to meet you after all this time. Let me hug you too.  Anyone who makes my boy happy is welcome in this house.  Give me your hand, I have some tea, I know you like English tea, Viktor, Jan and the children are here to meet you, we are going to have tea party, do you like scones?’

Armie’s mother dragged Timothée off to the kitchen.  Timothée gave Armie a wry look over his shoulder as he was taken away.

Armie was left with his father.  He took his courage and went into his father’s arms which were open in receipt of his son.

‘She told you to behave didn’t she?’

‘Yes.’

‘Same. Let’s have a truce.  No hard words, goodwill for these few days.  Agree to stay shtum or walk if we don’t agree?’

A hand came out.

Armie looked from hand to face.

‘I don’t need to shake your hand, we aren’t commercial colleagues.  You’re my father.  Despite everything I love you, you don’t need to put on a show for me.  Just accept me as I am and accept and be nice to Timmy, that’s all you have to do. And, you only have to do it for a couple of days.’

Armie was about to walk off, felt better for having spoken, took his father’s arm and walked towards the back of the house, which was where his mother and Timothée had already disappeared.

‘Truce.’

‘Truce.’

‘Good.  Let’s enjoy the days we have.’

 

Armie’s mother was formally introducing herself and the family to Timothée as they walked.

‘Call me Belle, my real name is Annabelle but no-one calls me that.  The children are Anna and Aubyn, we call him Aubbie.  Do you want children Timmy?’

‘We haven’t discussed that and don’t put ideas in his head’

‘I want more grandchildren, Viktor and Jan are done.  You two are my only hope.’

Armie knew his work was going to be cut out.  His father was silent by his side, he didn’t look round to see his there was any reaction.

‘Don’t mind her Timmy, can I call you Timmy, I feel like I should call you Timothy, is that version of your name OK?’

Viktor ever the diplomat introduced himself and his wife.

‘This is Jan, and those two over there are Anna and Aubyn or Aubbie – hey kids come here and say hello.’

The two children came over, confidently holding out hands to shake.

‘Nope, not hands, let me give you a hug.’  Timothée got onto his haunches and brought both children to him, careful to reserve contact to an appropriate level while still being warm and welcoming.

Armie softened as he watched his boyfriend naturally and thoughtfully greet his nephew and niece, as they in turn smiled and interacted with instant trust.

‘Call me Timmy. I’m Uncle Armie’s boyfriend.’

Armie couldn’t believe his ears.

‘Are you gay Timmy? Anna put forth a straightforward question.

‘Yes, so is your Uncle.’

‘OK.  Do you want a biscuit?  Aubbie and I have some, come with me.’

Aubbie had limited conversation skills but understood biscuit, took Timothée’s hand and walked him over to their version of a tea party.

‘Sex Ed. starts early nowadays.’

Jan rescued them. ‘And we don’t like to lie to them.’

‘Jesus, things have changed.  Why do they need to know that stuff?’

‘Pa, they know nothing, all they know is that men who like other men are gay, they do not understand the mechanics of what that means.  What is wrong with that?’  Viktor spoke freely.

Armie looked with gratitude at his brother.

‘Pa…’ 

Armie thought better and kept his mouth shut.  His mother was looking at him soft, he knew what was going on in her mind.  She saw it.  The love between her son and this other man was palpable, they had a buzz between them and they were here at home. She was happy.

‘Pa lets have some tea, how are things at the company?’

Armie took his father’s elbow, led him off to the dining area.  Michael, his father, his Pa was thoughtful and glancing between Timothée who was engrossed with the children, and his son, who could not and did not hide his appreciation of the other man.

The kitchen was really two spaces a state of the art kitchen and a comfortable and colourful area for sitting and eating.  Timothée was located with the children at a sofa and low table.  Timmy was seated on the sofa, the children on a rug and soft cushions.  They were drinking ‘tea’ made from home made iced tea and eating small slices of sugar iced English buns.  He was enjoying himself.  Armie made to sit at the table, glass topped and grey wood and leather dining chairs.

‘Come and have a proper drink with me Armie, you don’t want this mimsy tea business.’  A collective gasp. This was thoughtless.  Belle had made a really special effort to get the tea together. Armie turned tactful rather than argumentative.

‘Bring the bottle Pa.  We can have both.  Mom has made an effort for us and I want to appreciate her kindness.’

His father walked back into the main part of the house to fetch his bourbon.  Armie knew he had already had one or two, as it was the weekend he had an excuse to start drinking earlier than normal.  He was used to it, his mother never got used to it and chided his father constantly on how much he drank and how much he should drink.  It had no effect.  He never averaged more than four drinks a day even if he started early, and did not see that there was any problem even though this meant he technically drank more than the recommended weekly allowance for alcohol.  Viktor and Jan did not drink, Armie only ever joined him for one drink late in the evening after dinner. Belle might have a couple of glasses of wine with her meal or over the course of the evening.  Armie would have to watch Timothée as he became more physical the more he drank and he did not need a lot to set him off.  Good thing the children were likely to be in bed before they all sat down for the evening meal.

 

‘Timothée, what do you do?’

Armie looked at Timothée, mouthed the words ‘be nice’.

‘Hey kids, I am just going to join the adults for a moment, I’ll be right back.  Michael right?  Call me Timothy.  I’ll be an adult now.’

Breathy laughter, which worked on Armie like some kind of aphrodisiac.

‘I’m cabin crew, I lead the team in First Class.’

‘You’re young.  Is that normal?’

‘Is what normal?’

‘Leading the team.  I would have thought you needed a few more years experience than what you have.  How do you find dealing with people who are twice your age.  Must be difficult.’

Timothée looked steadily at him.  Armie held his breath.

‘How old are you Michael?’

‘Sixty-five.’

‘You don’t think we are going to get on?  A person is a person, if you want to be difficult you can be difficult at any age.  The people who are difficult in first class are just assholes with money, it’s simple, don’t be an asshole.  I treat them with the same courtesy as my other guests, it’s just that the nice people get genuine feeling and sympathy, the others get customer service to the standard required, in other words their money’s worth and nothing more.  Don’t be an asshole in a plane, there’s nowhere to go, it’s like being difficult in a restaurant, the food isn’t always in front of you. You need to have a care.’

He kept a firm lock with Michael’s eyes.  It was clear, don’t fuck with me.  Armie was proud of his boyfriend.  He went over and kissed him, putting an arm over his shoulder to soothe him.

‘You OK baby?  Let me get you some tea.  What do you want?’  Armie turned them both slightly away from his birth family, kissed him again, Timothée was his family now.  He felt his father’s eye, and it didn’t matter, he could no longer manipulate him into anger.

‘I’ve put you in the grey guest room, there’s a king in there you should both be comfortable.’

The grey room was at the back of the house, away from the other bedrooms, in fact it was really a suite with a living space and en-suite bathroom.  It matched the white master room at the other end of the house.  They would have their privacy.

This was too much for Michael, he excused himself with having to make a call.  He returned half-an hour later. Stood in the doorway and proclaimed:

‘OK, now you think I am a dick. You are new to the family, bear with me…Armie will tell you I am the person with mouth that works before the brain has formulated a response.  I am an engineer, plain speaking sometimes thinking operationally rather than strategically which works with inanimate objects doesn’t always work with people, give me a chance.  You’re my son’s partner, I love him so I have to accept you.  Give me a moment to get to grips with everything.

Woah, so much has changed…it takes a time to get used to new ways of being.’

Timothée noted he hadn’t apologised.  That did not sit well with him.

‘Your apology is accepted Michael, come and sit by me we can have a chat while Armie gets to find out what’s happening with Viktor and Jan.’  He moved off to the sofa.

‘Your boyfriend is bold.’

‘Yes, he has a big fucking mouth.’

‘All the better…’

‘Stop it.’

Belle laughed, all back to normal.

 

Later that afternoon, Armie and Timothée went up for a quick nap.  The room was perfect, just the right temperature, fresh and clean. His Mom had had the room repainted and there was new bedding and covers for the furniture.  It was a modern take on an old house.  The en-suite bathroom suite was new, in fact the whole house had been refreshed. It was really too big for two people but his parents enjoyed having guests, and as he slowed down at work and did less there, his father was more often than not at home. Having come home, Armie sensed for the first time that his father was ready to either run the company down or sell it off.  His initial feeling was just sell and see what they could get for the title, there wasn’t much money in assets or stock, it was best to just sell the name and reputation. He might still get a few million for that; as they had already taken a lot of money out of the company in the days of plenty, the few million that could be made wasn’t needed, Armie could see him distributing it as gifts, it was also tax efficient to distribute money via property and trusts. He would need to talk with Viktor, a joint approach was probably best. His mind turned back to Timothée.

They unpacked, wash things, underwear and the few things that needed hanging, a shirt and chinos for Armie, Timothée’s jacket.   He had worn a pair of black jeans, black t-shirt and casual jacket on the way up.  Being younger than Armie he tended to buy cheap and throw away.  Armie preferred to buy expensive and keep for a long time.

‘You only choose boring clothes for coming home. You wore nicer things to Las Vegas. Why so conservative?’

‘I hadn’t realised.  Subconscious decision.  Not intended.  Don’t you like them?’

‘No.  When we go home, we need to do some shopping.  I’ll go through your wardrobe and work out what can be thrown away, you can only wear things that are pleasing to me.  No-one else needs to be interested in you.  We’ll get a personal shopper, you can afford it, you dress like a tramp.  Some of those chinos are years old.’

‘Harsh.’

‘When did you last go shopping?’

‘Last year.’

‘Oh my God! Last year…or do you mean the year before?’

‘I don’t need clothes, I mostly wear a uniform or tracksuit bottoms, you know that.  Talking of which I need some new gym wear.  Let’s take Mom shopping tomorrow. Pa won’t come, we can have some fun.’

‘Deal. Come and lie down, I feel like I need a hug after your chippy Pa.’

They lay down and went to sleep, waking with an alarm at 6.30pm, had a shower and returned to the fray around 7.00pm, ready for whatever the evening brought.

 

‘Do either of you want a drink?’

His mother was being hospitable.

‘Don’t worry Mom, we can help ourselves, I can show Timmy where everything is and we don’t want any alcohol until later.’

‘Speaking for me already? Are you trying to control me’

Armie would have cursed him except they were in company.

‘Not at all darling, do you want a drink? What do you want?’

‘I don’t want anything.  Michael, show me those records you were talking about.  I want to get back into vinyl. Armie only has Spotify.  It sounds terrible, alright for a car not for home.  What do you play it on? Show me baby.’

He took Michael by the arm and dragged him out of the room, snuggling him. Michael did not know how to take this physical closeness.

‘Better get used to him Pa.  He’s liable to kiss you too.’

Armie could see the slight hesitation when he said that.  His mother gave him a dirty look.

‘Don’t tease your father, he’s doing very well.  No arguments yet. Don’t trouble him. And that applies to Timothée too, that boy…has the potential….’

Viktor and Jan hadn’t come down yet, they were putting the children to bed; there was a protracted bedtime routine, important especially as they were not sleeping in their own beds.  The children were sleeping in the room with two single beds, the parents in the suite next door. Armie’s and Viktor’s old bedrooms had been absorbed into new suites, what had been a five bedroom house was now four bedrooms, three of the bedrooms had ensuites, the bedroom with singles used the ‘family’ bathroom which exited onto the upper floor hall.   There was a separate toilet on that floor and a shower room with toilet downstairs at the back of the kitchen, that was mainly used when people came in dirty from external activities or as a guest facility, the sofa in the yellow family room could be folded out as a double bed.

‘Come into the yellow room darling, I need to talk with you.’

The yellow room held a TV with a soundbar and facilities for streaming music and other media content, a keyboard and dock for a laptop or computer, his parents really had thought of everything, there was new furniture and a newly laid tile floor and if he wasn’t wrong underfloor heating had been installed (he wasn’t a fan, preferring wood stoves) he began to be suspicious.

‘You’ve spent a lot of money on refurbishing this place.  What are you up to?’

‘Now, see you are anticipating our conversation, sure you don’t want a drink?’

‘Do I need one?’

‘I think you are catching on.  Your father and I are going to downsize. We are giving you this house.’

‘What?’

‘Don’t you like it?’

‘The liking is not the issue.  Why?  Is something wrong?’

‘No. Nothing wrong.  Your father is going to formally retire. The company has been sold to Kings Industries, they want the name, some of the equipment and the business parks – you know your father has been investing in commercial property for a while now.  They’ve given $3m, we had sufficient anyway to buy a condo and refurbish it without that money.  Viktor has had a gift, he doesn’t want much, his house is big enough and in a good area for work and schools.  He is going to put the children through public school – why I do not know…anyway if he wants to send them private we will fund.  We will probably be gone, out of here by July.’

Armie’s head was spinning.

‘So you are going to move out regardless in a couple of months.  Where are you going?’

‘We already have the condo, most of the work is done we are getting to the good part, fitting out and buying soft furnishing. Armie, you look shocked.  You must have realised that we were going to start slowing down?’

‘Yes, but…I thought my news would supersede anything you had planned…You hadn’t said anything...I kind of guessed that you might be slowing down and Pa would retire but I thought you would stay here.  It’s near Viktor and Jan.  Where are you going?

‘Not far, Rancho Palos Verdes, there’s a gated community there it’s safe and if we want to travel we can go away and leave everything without worrying.  We plan to start our travels with a cruise in October, somewhere close to begin with – perhaps the Caribbean, need to book that soon.  Don’t look so worried, we will all be within 20 or so minutes of each other and we regard your privacy important, we never just drop in on Viktor.  We all have our own lives, the only difference is that you will be near as well. And, it is so much closer to the airport you’ll only be half an hour away, perhaps a little longer with traffic but much closer than where you are now and it’s a proper house. If you decide you want children you’ll have room or if you choose to entertain and just maintain a man about town lifestyle – I do mean you and Timothée, not just you, the house is suited.  We have had many happy years here, it’s time to move on.’

‘Can I come and have at look at where…’

‘Armie, Armie…come here.  I want to talk to you.  Come here. Armie.’

Timothée was shouting.

‘Did you ask Pa to tell him?’

‘If there was an opportune moment.’

‘What is it Timothée, we’re in the yellow room.’ 

He got up and put his head round the door, Timothée was standing further along the internal corridor. He stood in the door way. Timothée was walking towards him.

‘Say yes.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes Armie, please.’

‘OK Ma. If Timothée is happy, that is all I need to know.  Now that is settled, we are going shopping tomorrow, make sure you have shoes you can walk in, he can walk you off your feet.’

 

The evening passed pleasantly, Belle had cooked the meal, a simple roast chicken dinner followed by her famous home made ice cream.  After the meal, Timothée helped in the kitchen tidying, washing up, and finished by giving her a giant hug.

‘Thanks Belle.  I really appreciated that because you made me feel at home.  Is there anything else that needs to be done?’

‘Coffee. Pa likes filter and Armie likes one with a small measure of whisky.’

‘That’s an old man’s drink.’

‘I know.  I don’t know where he came from.  Anyway he likes it and he’ll like it if you make it for him.  Once coffee is served, we put on some music and talk, then we go up around ten.  Michael likes to have a little time getting ready for bed and then time to read a few pages of his book. Viktor and Jan will not be far behind, we are early risers especially as the children are normally awake by seven.  You and Armie can lie in, we’ll leave something for you.  We can discuss when we go through.  No need to boil the kettle, that tap dispenses water hot enough.’

Timothée made the coffee, shoo’d Belle into the main living area and brought it in, as Belle predicted some easy music was already on, a spirited discussion around local politics and the President was in flow and by ten thirty only he and Armie were left.

‘Shall we have a make out session?’

Armie laughed. ‘OK.  Nothing more down than that here…then bed.’

Like naughty school children, Tim slid over and onto the sofa where Armie was seated, came alongside, put his arm around his boyfriend, kissed him and pushed him down, climbing him and lying directly on top of him.

‘Happy?’

‘Yes baby, this is perfect.’

A kiss, and Timothée laid his head on Armie’s shoulder.  Armie put his arms around him, twisted so that Timothée lay back against the backrest of the sofa, legs entangled, mouths searching, hands wandering.  A very pleasant 10 minute make out session, and then to finish things off, bed and afterwards satiated, sleep.

 

Just after nine the next morning, there was a gentle knock.  Armie was awake, ‘Hello’

‘I’ve bought you some tea and toast, it’s outside.’

‘Come in Mom. We are decent.’

On the knock Timothée had got up and gone to the bathroom, Armie sat up, he was naked under the bed covers, not self-conscious, but put a hand over his cock for modesty, Timothée had pulled on his jeans from the day before.

‘Wow, two virile young men, you’re doing something for my hormones.’

‘That’s not appropriate, I’m your son.’

‘Yeah I know but you are both humming, it’s infectious.’

Timothée actually blushed, this was not easily done.

‘You are embarrassing Timothée, he’s gone red.’

In fact he’d gone redder, the flush now extended over his shoulders.

‘That’s a new phenomenon, his neck is red…ha…ha…ha…’

‘Fuck off.’

‘Manners.’

‘Sorry Mrs Hammer.’

‘Plenty to feast on…’ She made a very obvious peek at Timothée’s crotch. ‘You are very lucky Armie.’

‘Oh My God! That’s highly inappropriate. Get out…Wait, what time are we leaving?’

‘Let’s have brunch, we can leave at ten thirty. You have time for a quickie…’

 

They had gone to Good Stuff for brunch, and stayed for a second round of coffee whilst Armie had a second round of toast made from a loaf of seeded brown bread which he couldn’t eat enough of for which Timothée berated him because it meant that he would be too full to properly try on clothes. Belle paid, Armie claiming that she had more money than them and could afford it and he wasn’t going to offer and neither should Timothée, for which he got a second scolding.  They were a very happy crew and looking forward to their shopping trip.

They had decided to go Los Angeles for the shopping as Belle didn’t think that the Rolling Hills malls had anything that Timothée would approve of.  As they drove, Timothée was on his phone checking which shops might have something suitable for his boyfriend.

‘Right, let’s go to Westfield.’  Both heads swivelled towards him.

‘Really?’  Armie was doubtful.

‘Yes.  And we are only going to three places.  Cos, J Crew and Zara.’

‘Nothing will fit me.’

‘You’re tall not fat. Despite all that bread you eat.  The Beverly Centre is too big, it’s gross.  And, you need to get modernised, no designer shit.  We’ll buy two outfits in each, you can try them out and if you like them then we’ll try more of those types of shops.  No need to buy designer stuff.  You need some trainers as well, we can look on line for those.’

Belle just smiled.

As they walked through, they drew attention, Armie because he was tall, slim and handsome, his boyfriend offset him, tallish, delicate in form and feature, his dark hair and colouring like an old masters painting, embodying America and Europe in physical form. Obviously a pair and obviously in love.  As they talked, there were touches, smiles and mirroring body language, Belle was right they just seemed to hum. They were catching glances but were oblivious.  Belle was very proud of both of them, her heart was full. She variously walked between them, ahead or behind and just observed the show.

They were in Cos, Armie had an arm full of clothes and the help of an assistant who was taking him to the dressing room.  Belle had a chance to have a quiet word with Timothée.

‘So when is he getting divorced?’

‘He’s not really thought much beyond just getting things right between us, but to be fair we haven’t really discussed it.’ 

Timothée felt he didn’t need to discuss how and in what way the beginning of their relationship was interesting.  He knew that Armie would tell his parents what they needed to know himself and that he would make his situation right. He didn’t really mind what was decided, Armie was undoubtedly his, but if they were to make themselves partners in a formal way then he would have to regularise his situation and that meant divorce.  He wasn’t even sure if Armie had had the discussion with Chelsea, and there was also the issue of his job, if he was divorced did he still qualify for employment?  It wasn’t clear if he had taken out Australian citizenship. Wasn’t sure if he needed it or if their relationship qualified in the same way as marriage.  Having the house together was also a matter for discussion, on what basis was he resident?  Where were they going in their relationship now?

‘Sorry, what did you say Belle?  I didn’t quite catch…’

Armie came out in the first outfit.  He looked so different, Timothée’s heart was in his mouth, he wanted to, well fuck him on the spot.  Belle was surprised, she did not anticipate how freeing a change in clothing style could be, and immediately decided to do some shopping herself, except she would go the Beverly Centre and get a personal shopper to pull some pieces for her – she’d ask Timothée for some advice before he went.

‘Armie, you look gorgeous, super fucking hot, wow…I wanna fuck you.’ The last was said softer like it was for his ears only, except they were in the middle of the shop.

‘Oh Timothée…that _Mouth_ …’

Subconscious licking and swiping of lips by both parties.

‘You like my mouth…especially when it’s on your dick.’

Softly voiced. Mutual eye-fucking. 

The shop fell silent.

‘OK. What else have you got – buy that one, I’ve changed my mind, we don’t need to go to J Crew, just buy some more things here, and we’ll go online for Zara throw away stuff. You have to get your hair cut.  Then you will be absolutely perfect, is there somewhere we can go for the hair, let me look.’ Immediately got his phone out.

Belle kept quiet.  Armie was blushing from head to foot, his pupils were blown black and he was shifting one leg to another.  He couldn’t help it. The assistant held her composure, and said:

‘Well, that was...well…I think I know what else you should buy, come with me.’

The shopping trip was deemed a success.

 

They got back around five, the boys having stopped at Shake Shack for burgers which were eaten in the car, to much tutting by Belle.

‘Come upstairs Armie, I want to see those outfits on you again.’

‘Don’t make too much noise…stop blushing Armie. I’m going for a nap myself. I think I’ll take Michael with me…’

A very lazy evening followed, nobody bothered getting dressed again, the only disturbance was to’ing and fro’ing between bedrooms and kitchen for subsistence and drinks, eventually both couples retreated to their rooms, the better to enjoy the company of their respective partners.


	14. Fourteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Old doubts return. There are some things that need to be worked out. Their lives should be easy but when there are underlying issues which have not been resolved, life has a way of making you think twice. Some angst follows.
> 
> This is fiction. I don't know them and as far as I know Armie has never flown a plane.

‘Well that went well, don’t you think Armie?  Your Mom and Dad liked me, didn’t they?’

‘Apart from your shameless mouth, yes I think they did like you, especially my Pa, against his better judgement.  That was one of best times I have had with them.  You have a good effect on them both.  Thank you.’

‘I don’t know why you are thanking me.  It was because of you that we all got on.  They want to please you Armie, if they didn’t love you or care about you they wouldn’t have been so difficult in the past.  You just had different ideas about what your happiness would look like.  Now you have me they know you are happy and are prepared to compromise.  All that had to happen was for you to know what you wanted.  Am I right?’

‘Yes.’

‘OK. Good.  Cos’ I want you too in all ways and I see my future with you.

Baby, we need to discuss some things.  Two things are important to me right now. The first is your marriage or divorce, and as a subsequence your job.  Secondly, I am going to live in that house with you…on what basis?’

‘…I don’t know Tim.  I never applied for citizenship…it doesn’t matter anyway…I’m with you and you are Australian, problem solved. You’re my significant other and I’ve had residency for a couple of years, I could go for formal residency, I own the apartment in Melbourne.  The divorce is not key. I haven’t made up my mind about the house  – I want to live there but I am still not really clear what my parents really mean.  I mean are they just giving it to me to do with as I want, is it to be treated as a family house in as much as when we both die it goes back to a family member or it will be held in trust, which means essentially the same thing.  I want to live there but the terms are not settled. And I don’t know how much it costs to run – it might work out cheaper to rent it out than leave it empty half the time. And let’s be realistic it’s too big for two people, it should have a family in it…’

He couldn’t, no wouldn’t give a definitive answer to either question.

Timothée felt defeated.  He had answers but was not satisfied, Armie had not said anything which suggested their relationship was in passing or not serious, but he was no better off than when he had arrived in Rolling Hills.  Last night everything seemed possible, now it seemed that he was back to square one…  Armie was not divorced and not stressed about getting one, and the house which he dreamed of living in might not even be regarded as Armie’s, let alone shared between them.  He laughed silently to himself.  These were rich people’s problems, it served him right. He had lived amongst liberal people who shared their good fortune as much as they could, now he was stepping into a world where a house was an asset not somewhere you build memories and happiness.

Armie noticed that Timothée had gone quiet, he hadn’t fallen into his normal silence of impenetrable state awash with evasiveness. He knew exactly what was going through his mind.  He wouldn’t promise things that were not within his grasp.  Chelsea might cause him problems, it was a marriage of convenience, she only had to refuse to divorce and he would just have to bide his time and his patience with a formal separation and divorce, and as far as the house was concerned it looked like a piece of good fortune but had the potential to turn into a quagmire of family dissatisfaction and feuding, he had seen it happen before, he trusted his brother but wondered how he would feel if his parents had given Viktor the house on the basis he, Armie, already had one and therefore did not need financial help to the same value.  The Rolling Hills house was worth around $4m, Viktor’s house around $2m, Viktor now owned his outright, he’d checked that and the mortgage had been paid by his parents, that was the gift. That meant that in effect Armie was $2m ahead in the game. He checked himself, this is what he meant he wasn’t ahead, his parents were doing what most parents did – levelling up the playing field, both of them had a house.  This is what he also had to discuss with Timothée, it wasn’t just the formal sharing there were the emotional consequences to consider also.

Timothée looked across at his lover, many thoughts were running through his head, the last being the fact that he had to consider how he would feel in a similar situation and what if there was a house for himself and Clare to fight over.  Clare had her own house, in fact she and David had two homes, one in New York the other in LA, each worth over $4m, his parents might decide to leave the Las Vegas house to him, it was worth only, only? $750k, a not inconsiderable sum but relative to what Clare and now himself were now getting used to, moderate in value, and that had been built up over time, it was not brought for that price.   How would Clare feel about that?  She still might resent it despite being very happily settled with David.  This was not going to be easy.  He gave Armie some grace about the house, but he had not an answer on the basis on which he was going to live in the house with Armie, i.e. what was his relationship with Armie?  And where were they going?  Was it too early to talk about this? His mind ran on. Which option? Heading for marriage, civil partnership or a partnership built on trust but not formally recognised? Armie had responded to a question not asked, which was about the value and standing of the house. There was too much to think about.  He had to let it go for now otherwise it had the potential to cause him distress.

‘What’s the matter Tim?’

‘Nothing.’

‘OK.’

They left it at that.  Each knew exactly what the other was thinking.  Both let it go for now, the issues were too big and weighed heavily on their minds.

 

A few weeks later Frank called Armie.

‘We’re having a party Armie, bring T.’

‘When is it?’

‘End of the month, you’re not working that weekend? Are you.  You told me you weren’t. You and T. can stay over.  Everyone wants to meet him, you’re our Brangelina, we like you with him.  He’s good for you and it’s ages since we all met up.  It’ll be great to see you both. Bob and Charlie are going to be there too, they haven’t met him…’

Armie hadn’t said he wasn’t working, he had talked generally about his schedule and said that he was aiming not to work towards the end of the month.  Frank was imposing on his good nature, he hadn’t agreed anything.

Also, his mother kept trying to talk to him about the house. They had meant it – they were giving him the house, no catches, he could do what he wanted with it, rent it, sell it or live in it, what she wanted was to see him settled, preferably with Timmy.  He regarded her a traitor and told her, how could she see the family house possibly go out of their collective hands? She merely said: ‘It’s in your hands’ – he could pass it on, put it in a trust, realise the money and do what he wanted, hell he could give up work and go travelling, she didn’t care so long as he was happy. He regarded his father the greatest traitor as he was giving up everything he had worked for to become handmaiden to his wife.

Since retiring he had mellowed, that weekend trip with Timothée had had great effect, he could no longer say that his father was difficult, when there were going to be words, his father merely shut his mouth and let Armie talk until he came to a stop and he told him to his face that Timothée had told him this was the best thing to do.   This was frustrating. Thus and how Michael grew to love Timothée also.  They had gone for another trip a couple of weeks later, ostensibly to discuss the house and needing only to stay one night, he didn’t think he would need more time to agree the terms on which the house was being given to him.  When he arrived, his mother already had the papers transferring the deed ready in the kitchen and brought them out with a flourish when they sat down together. What hurt him more was it was agreed that until his parents moved out Timothée could come anytime he was on his own because Armie was working.  There was this condition, it wasn’t an open invitation but he didn’t see why Timothée should have be given this freedom so easily, and his face said so.

He tested them again the following morning, this time in front of Timothée.

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes. Do what you want, it’s yours to do as you wish.’

‘What does Viktor think, he’s out by $2m.’

His mother looked disappointed.

‘He is not counting the money Armie.  He has a house, he’s happily married, he loves his children and his whole life. He wants for nothing, he earns more than you.  What do you want?  I bet you can’t even tell me.’

At this Armie got upset, the rest of day he was resentful.  Nothing was turning out the way he expected, and yet he had everything he wanted. It wasn’t fair, things were just being given to him and he had no reason to say he didn’t want them other than it was all out of his control. He was a puppet to mere circumstance.  And one of those things was Timmy. He stared at him, told him his cares with his face, by return Timothée told him that he didn’t see what the problem was, moreover Timothée left the room with his mother, chatting about possible trips to plays and the cinema, they both loved films and had found they had much in common with their cultural ventures. He was left on his own.  Timothée was too perfect, too good to be true.  Without realising it he set out to prove everyone wrong, he wasn’t worthy and he was going to show them they all had it wrong.  He left without signing any papers and told his mother he needed time to think about it.  He wouldn’t talk about it anymore with Timothée.

 

It was now more than six months since he and Timothée had got together, five months living together – it wasn’t a lot of time.  Armie felt like stepping back, it was too soon to be talking commitment, for people to assume they were a settled couple.  Perhaps they should spend some time having fun, perhaps even spend some time apart or at least doing things separately.

Timothée wasn’t convinced, he noticed that Armie had been stepping back, withdrawing since they got back from his parents; things had moved on very quickly, in a few months they had gone from effectively online dating, to full on living together.  He knew It was too fast, Armie wasn’t ready to think about settling down.  Everything could wait, the house and the divorce, give him a break.

‘Do you want me to move out?’

Hesitation.

‘OK.  I’ll go to Patrick for a while, he won’t mind.’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘I’ll move out, just for a little while until we work out what’s going on. I feel like I am crowding you. You’re uncomfortable, it all too much too soon. I can see that.’

More hesitation.

‘I love you. What is the problem?’

‘I know. But it’s too much for you.’

The next pause in the conversation was also too long.  Armie needed it.  In fact he needed to pause full stop. All of his doubts and anxieties came back.  That same wilfulness that led him to go on that date with Chris was back, he couldn’t deny it.  He told Timothée one thing, wanted another. He didn’t intend sleeping with Chris, that is what he told himself, but now he didn’t know, he would have slept with Frank and pursued Timothée afterwards if the opportunity had worked out that way.

Finally he spoke.

‘Don’t go…I need you.’

‘I don’t think you know what you want.  I think you are trying to prove a point…to yourself.  One minute everything is perfect, the next you feel that you should be able to do what you want. Then you tell me you feel manipulated.  If you want to do only what you want to do, we’re better apart, I’ve places I can go, I am not going to stick around while you play around.  I deserve to be treated well. You already told me that I was your Prince, yeah remember, your fucking Prince.  Now I’m some fucking inconvenience.  You want to go off and fuck around – like you did when we first met, fuck off.’

The door made a very large bang.  Screws loosened.  Filler fell out of holes. Pictures fell off the wall. Timothée was throwing things around, and also into his case, it was very noisy.  Other things were being swept out of cupboards onto the floor, Now Armie was frightened.  The door opened.

‘Call me a fucking uber. Patrick lives at…’

Shit, that was in Melbourne.  His thoughts began to gather themselves…in a jumble, there was literally no sense in what was going on in his head.

The bedroom door closed again.  Armie didn’t know why he didn’t just go in and talk to Timothée.  He couldn’t do it, he knew what he had to do but he couldn’t, nor could he deny that he had a great deal of feeling for Timothée, in fact he knew that he loved him.  He had told him that already. He damped down that feeling and the words that wanted to be spoken, and he could not say why.  It was just so.  He knew what needed to be said but could not put it into appropriate words.  A sense of time had also left with coherent thought.

There was wild muttering, and very bad swearing going on beyond the bedroom door. It opened.  Timothée had wound himself into real anger.

‘And don’t fucking bother to call me or talk to me. You fucking piece of shit. Don’t you know what I had to do to persuade myself that you really wanted me. You fucking went off on that date with Chris and, you fully expected to go off and fuck Frank and then come back and start courting me.  No, no, no, it doesn’t go like that. Think again.  I waited for you to come round and wake up you motherfucker and this is how you re-pay me.’

The door slammed again.

‘Don’t fucking talk to me. I don’t have to take your fucking crap.  Who do you think you are?

Don’t fucking bother with the uber, Patrick’s gonna meet me at Melbourne station.  I’ll collect my other stuff. Just text me when you are going to LA.’

Timothée rolled out his suitcase, a very full suitcase, still only had about a quarter of his clothes  He’d have to get a van for the remainder of his stuff a simple text wouldn’t work.  Why was his mind working this way?’

‘Don’t go, please Timothée.’

‘Fuck Off.’

Absolute rage on Timothée’s part, and said as he was going out of the door, Armie felt rather than witnessed his neighbours’ outrage at the noise and language.  It was seven in the evening, prime time for everyone in the building to hear what was going on – the gays are having an argument, cue much snickering.  Armie was running hot and cold, he was going to be left to face them.

‘And I don’t want a share of your house, it’s yours -  I know my place, I wasn’t going there without you, you dick, we aren’t that close…and we don’t really know each other. I’ve found that out the hard way.  Don’t worry, I don’t want anything from you.  I can live off what I earn and I have friends, real friends not fuck buddies, people who will look after me, not just a call away from a fuck.  Don’t forget that.  I don’t need your shit.’ This was shouted from the hall, the main door of the house would have slammed except it was self-closing.

 

‘I’ve made a mistake Ma.’

‘What have you done now?’

‘Timothée left.’

‘What…what do you mean Timothée’s left?  What did you say to him?  Don’t tell me, you played that too cool to be bothered shit, eh, Armie? When are you going to learn?  That boy loves you inside and out.  Why are you playing with him?’

‘Testing him.’ Resignation and self-knowledge was evident in his voice.  ‘I’ve had some time to think.’

‘Have you spoken to him?’

‘He’s blocked me.  And moved base, he’s back in Melbourne and flying everywhere I’m not.’

‘How long has this been going on?  Don’t answer.  Let me speak with him.’  The line went dead.

 

Sylvie invited him to Sunday lunch. He was miserable.  They had been scheduled on a flight together and they had sat and chatted catching up on news and agreeing to meet for lunch when they both got back to Sydney.  Armie had kept on the apartment.  He still had two months, well less than six weeks to run on the rental agreement.  He hadn’t decided what to do when it ran out, he supposed he might have to get somewhere to live.  If he didn’t find anything it wouldn’t matter, he could either Air BnB or find a cheap hotel, it wasn’t worth finding a permanent apartment he didn’t know what he was going to do. 

He was based there but Sydney no longer felt like home, he missed Timothée, he missed his company, he missed the sex and most of all he missed the companionship, something that he did not expect.  There was no-one to come and sit on the sofa with him and do nothing the whole live-long day or night, nobody to chat any kind of rubbish, the apartment was tidy but it wasn’t clean, nobody who knew how to make his coffee with the right amount whisky or knew what kind roast of coffee Armie liked best. He needed him. He retreated.  Not quite recluse but he certainly preferred to stay at home these days nursing his stupidity. He made no bones about it, he told anyone that listened that he was a fool in the hope that somehow this would get back to his erstwhile lover.

Some offered advice, against his good judgement encouraged by his mother, he went to the party at Frank’s and received short shrift.  He found half an hour alone with Frank and went through all his cares, i.e. the loss of freedom and the fact that Timothée had gone.  A simple question was posed:

‘What do you want Armie?  You can have either you cannot have both, if you want freedom to do as you want find someone who will give you that but it is a hollow existence to not be tied to someone or something, it is nature’s way of ensuring happiness find someone or something you love and hang on because that thing is precious.  Decide what you want and go for it.’

Frank had lived a carefree life which he had enjoyed, but this was coming to an end, a natural end – he was the near enough the same age as Armie, thirty six, Armie realised that within a few months he would be thirty-five and Timothée’s ideal age for a lover.  Frank was coming to the realisation that time had a way of marking natural limits on your body and therefore your attractiveness.  At some point potential lovers will look past you because they are potential lovers to others no longer you; this only has to happen a couple or several times for it to be something that has to be paid attention to.  Frank was pleasant looking, but time had begun to mark him, Armie was lucky he was fair of face and had a body that he had worked hard on, he still turned heads. Hiding was not a solution and Frank told him.

‘Either get back out there and find someone to replace Timothée or go and find Timothée and beg him to take you back.’

 

A couple of weeks later he had the lunch round at Sylvie’s, again he had been invited to spend the weekend, he arrived on Saturday afternoon and was taken to a family barbeque.  Sylvie and her partner took him round to a neighbour, well someone ten minutes away on the next block, the family were good friends, Mom was a single mom who had single handedly brought up the two children from the ages of three and five, and had recently discovered that she was gay or at least was having fun finding out.  The children were established, had good friends and were well prepared for adulthood, she was trying to work out how to transition into this new lifestyle without disrupting her already good friendship networks.  She knew her because their children had gone to the same schools and become friends staying over at each others house and going camping together, the Moms had struck up an easy friendship and they kept an eye out for each other, working through their love life and other family dramas.  Sylvie told Armie he could have a respite from thinking about Timothée, there would be no other men there only Alfie and Alfie had been warned to keep things light and not to talk about Timothée.  He would be safe.  But he did not want to be safe, he wanted Timothée to be by his side in this family group.  Sally the neighbour had her girlfriend there, they looked like a couple, they spoke like a pair. Instead of feeling safe Armie felt alone, he was surrounded by happy people it made him sad.  Sally took him to one side.

‘What is it Armie, can I get you something else?  I have some other food in the fridge if you want it, the children are always hungry, I can do some fish if you want or I have more steak if you want another one.’

‘If isn’t food I want Sally, I want Timothée. And I can’t have him.’

Sally pulled him inside the house.  ‘Come on you need to spill.’

Armie was in tears.  Slow tears dripped from his eyes and ran down the grooves of his face.  He thought about Timothée every day, it was painful, not just emotionally he felt it physically, he slept but he went to sleep thinking about him and he woke in expectation of hands full and his warm scent under his neck.  He didn’t know that he could miss someone so much and he only began to know this once Timothée had gone, and had been gone a few days, that was when it started to creep into him, invaded his flesh and very being to take up the vacuum left by Timothée’s absence.  People tried to help him, they invited him out they kept in touch, Armie was polite he went out when he was home, his schedule and reticence eventually lead to a falling off of interest, he was left to his own devices and to fall further into gloom.  He accepted his situation and tried to work out how he could get through.

He thought about dating, not men but women – someone unequivocally different to Timothée.   He started looking out for potential dates.  He put a profile up on Tinder and was swamped with women swiping right but he could not bring himself to respond until a tall and slender girl called Elizabeth appeared on his timeline, she reminded him of Timothée the same very dark chestnut hair, hazel eyes and androgynous body. He swiped right, they texted for a few days and arranged to meet when he got back, kept texting when he had his layover in LA and met when he got back to Sydney. He took her to bar, they had a few drinks then he took her to Casoni subconsciously choosing a popular restaurant in Darlinghurst, a predominantly gay area of Sydney.  She noticed and she noticed how he looked at other men, she mostly kept quiet, until late in the evening.  She needed to know.

‘Armie, have you slept with men?’

‘Yes.’

‘Are you…running away from someone or a situation?’

Armie was quiet.

‘I don’t mind. What’s his name?’

She was sympathetic, and listened to Armie who was careful to be brief and only outline that Timothée was the one who got away, and that he was trying to get over him, and that he wanted her, really wanted her, he liked her. That is what he told himself.  The noise in the back of his head buzzed away, joined by the thought, she wasn’t Timothée.

She went home with him, but once Armie got her in the apartment it felt wrong, that bed was his and Timothée’s bed, he could remember the last time they made love.  He tried kissing her, he tried to make out with her, got her on the sofa, gently pulled her into his arms, she was willing and made the right moves to show him she wanted him, her hands roamed his body, she kissed him, he kissed her, she undid his trousers and slipped her hand between flesh and clothing, he remained soft, something whispered to him ‘Your body belongs to Timothée’.  He could not get hard. He put her upright and fastened his trousers and straightened and did up his shirt, she pulled down her dress and started to put herself back together, everything was tidy and wrong.

‘I can’t. Sorry. I’ll get you an uber.’

‘Don’t be sorry Armie, stay in touch.’

She knew exactly how he felt, she had had her own Timothée and she knew it was hopeless.

 

‘Are you dating, Armie?’

‘No.’

‘Why not? You’re just wasting time.  He won’t come back.  I spoke with him and he is adamant.’

His mother was no comfort.

‘I don’t know why you keep talking to me about this, at the moment I can’t deal with any of it.’

‘It’s been three months.  You have to find a way of dealing with it.’

His father came into the kitchen, heard the last part of the conversation and walked back out again, muttering.

‘What did you say?’

Michael turned back.

‘You had the love of your life and you behaved like a dick. 

What part of compromise do you not understand? A long-term relationship is not all roses and honey, you have to work at it, talk to each other, agree to disagree and find a way to compromise. Sometimes just give in and accept that you are wrong or don’t have all the answers.  That is where the love is, knowing you don’t know and knowing that your partner does and that you can trust him in that moment of darkness to lead you back to safety.

Do you think you can spend the rest of your life doing exactly what you want? Good luck with that.’

And went out of the room.  And that was the problem, his father was not lying.


	15. Fifteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A different perspective, Timothée's view.

Timothée had gone to Patrick’s, he was a good friend of old.  Patrick took one look at him and gathered him into his arms. Timothée howled for a hour.  He knew what he was losing.

He cried intermittently for the rest of the weekend, in fact until he had to go to work two days later.

‘What happened to you?’

‘Allergy. I’ve taken tablets.  I’ll be OK.’

Nobody believed him and everybody gave him space.

When he went back to Patrick’s, the apartment was empty, Patrick also worked cabin crew and he would be gone for three days.  That was good, until he was mad with wanting to call Armie. He walked around the apartment, ate chocolate, went to bed, woke up.  Armie’s face flashed up in his mind, he went to his phone, there were messages from Armie. He deleted them, then tried to retrieve them, he got some of them back.  Read them, pored over them. They were all the same, in different formats or different words. ‘I’m sorry.’ He deleted them again. 

He got on Grindr. Picked up someone who looked like Armie, fucked him in a toilet. Came back to the apartment and cried.

Did this until it felt like it didn’t matter who it was. That was what he told himself, except he was lying.  Armie’s face began to flash up unexpectantly and he wanted to cry whenever it did. His colleagues worked out what was going on and helped him out.  He couldn’t concentrate, was prone to distraction, lost his temper with staff, luckily not in front of customers, and couldn’t eat – in fact during one flight he could only keep down water.  He got used to running on adrenaline.

A month later he was on a flight with Sylvie.

‘How is he?’

‘Like you, rotten.’

‘Don’t tell me anymore.  I can’t take it.’

He went to the crew bathroom and cried for half an hour.  He was taken off the service and told to go and sleep. He went to a dual crew rest compartment, lay there mind running, feelings shot and only got up when the plane was actually about to land. He was next to useless and had to rely on his second-in-command who reported him to management.  He was called in.

‘What is going on with you and Armie? He’s just as bad as you’

‘We split.’

‘Do you want the next flight off.’

‘Yes please.’

 

The next set of scheduling was being planned.  Their friendly scheduler Alan stepped in.

‘Those two are idiots.  Put them together on the same flights from now on’.

 

‘What do you mean you and Armie are separated?’

‘What I said Mom.  We argued, well we didn’t even argue, I asked, he didn’t answer quick enough and I told him I was leaving him.’

‘OK.  Come home Timothée.’

‘OK’

Timothée had ten days, he flew to Las Vegas.

‘What do you mean, you’ve separated.  Tell me everything.’

Timothée told her about the house and about the divorce.

‘Why didn’t you tell me about this before?’

‘I couldn’t it was for him to tell you.’

‘What do you mean it was for him to tell me. He wasn’t going to tell me or Joseph anything about this.  Do you have a brain?  He wouldn’t mentioned this, he expected you to tell us.’

‘How could I tell you, it was his business.’

‘Timothée, you would only have told us when everything was settled, you weren’t going to mention anything until you knew exactly where you were with him. And you didn’t know.  That is why you argued with him.  You did not know what you meant to him so you are punishing him.  Well actually you are punishing yourself too and by the looks of you punishing yourself into ill-health. Go and lie down, I’ll fetch you something to drink.  Do you want a sandwich or something to eat?’

‘No, just a drink. Did you have any of your breakfast smoothie left? I’ll have a glass of that.’

‘Brush your teeth afterwards.’

‘Mom…’

‘At least rinse your mouth.’

 

In fact Timothée had gone off the rails. He was dating a little and fucking a lot, punishing himself. He was safe but did not stint on experience. Patrick didn’t try to stop him, he knew that this was something he had to work through.  He was glad that Timothée had gone home, he might take the opportunity to rest, talk to his family and review his lifestyle, think about what he really wanted.  When he had been at Patrick’s for a week, he’d sent for his things from Armie, and promptly threw out half of it. ‘Never gonna be dependent on anyone again and if I want to leave, I’ll be able to leave with just two suitcases.’  Patrick tried to persuade him to hang onto some things, especially things that Armie had given him, including a soft leather jacket from Reiss, some Armani black jeans - anything that Armie had bought him was thrown out.  However, he noted that Timothée kept the Cartier jewellery, a Juste un Clou ring and Santos bracelet which had been adapted in such a way that it could not be taken off, it needed a key of some sort which presumably Armie still had. He did not take off the ring nor did he break the lock on the bracelet, which told Patrick something, whatever Timothée said or did his heart was still with Armie.

His mother took a look at him and knew that he was still hurting from the way Armie had treated him, her son was a person who made a lot of noise but remained shy, and at the moment he was doing the classic thing of hiding from what was troubling him in a destructive way.  She put her skills to use and began to offer him advice under the guise of a mother’s care.

‘Shall we have a few days at the MGM?’ 

It was her favourite home from home, she didn’t like the glitz of the Bellagio or The Venetian, the MGM was so big it was possible to disappear and yet there was plenty to see and do there, or simply use as a base to visit shows at other hotels.

‘Come on Timmy, let’s have some fun.’

She needed him to change up his mood, get out of his normal routine and habitat.  It was late Summer, very warm and there were lots of visitors and events with potential to distract him.  They might even get a few days instead at the Grand Canyon, a walking holiday might just about be feasible if they kept the walking to early morning and relaxed in the safety of a hotel or Lodge spa.  They could have a lot of time together, talk through whatever was bothering him.

‘I don’t know, I don’t feel like it…why don’t we just stay here…let me binge some TV and drink myself stupid.   I don’t want to get all glammed up, mix with people I don’t know or care for or lie in the sun.  Please Mom, can I just…you know get away from everything…I don’t want to do anything.’

She let him be.

Sometimes it is better to lie low and forget the outside world, especially when it contains people that you think you cannot do without.

His father was tactful, he kept out of the house, worked late and went to every event he could whilst Timothée was at home.  Timothée had his Mom to himself and she looked after her boy.  He needed that care and attention, most of all he needed to know that his love hadn’t been wasted and that his unconditional approach was valid, his mother showed him time and again how right he was to love Armie wholeheartedly and told him that it would all come back round again, the old adage was right, time was a great healer and if he did not get the thing he had with Armie, what might come would be better because he now had the experience and wherewithal to deal with whatever love came his way. And whatever he couldn’t deal with, he could walk away from and come back to another time.

Timothée needed the validation and reassurance, he went back to Melbourne, rested and resigned. He wasn’t over Armie but he had some perspective, he no longer felt like he had to wash Armie out of his system by replacing him with dumb lookalikes who did nothing to satisfy his hunger for the real thing.  He got back to Melbourne resolved to do better and re-build his confidence.  He deleted the Grindr app. And started ringing around his friends to help re-build his social network, and get back into the cultural interaction he had so enjoyed when he was with Armie. He just hoped he did not run into him, the rest and recuperation had put him in a more mellow mood, he didn’t want to describe it as softening, but that was what it was.  He had hardened his attitude by allowing himself to experience the pain of losing Armie but it also mean that he had to put himself in a place where he had to be vulnerable to be able to understand what he needed in order to go forward.  That vulnerability was a kind of softness, a softness that someone might crack open. His heart was open only so that it could heal, and the skin was not yet healed over, it might not survive an encounter with the person he still loved.


	16. Sixteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Short Cnapter. Armie is brought to his senses, not necessarily in the right way.
> 
> This is fiction, I don't know them and as far as I know Armie has never flown a plane.

Both of them went to ground.  Timothée spent time with his friends, not going out to bars and clubs, spending time at their houses. Evenings out at the theatre and cinema, he joined a film society, had dinners in; he was recuperating.  He had a social life, a birthday had passed, he celebrated – without Armie but he still wanted to celebrate his birthday with Armie, so it was bittersweet. He wasn’t really dating so for a person of his age questions were asked. And he couldn’t answer them, nor did he.  He knew what the answer was and he had begun to understand why Armie could be reticent.  It is very well knowing what needs to be done.  It was another doing it.

 

Armie’s mother grew tired of him, he rung her constantly and spent his off time at the house until they moved out, and he moved with them.  Then his mother surprised him. 

‘We’ve rented the house to Timmy.’

Armie couldn’t think.  He also couldn’t speak.  His mother ploughed on.

‘You don’t want it. And we want someone to live in it, at least for part of the time.  He has it on a three year contract for a dollar a month, he’ll have it until he’s thirty.  He has a chance. He’ll settle. We are his landlords so we’ll bear the cost of the upkeep.  He’s very happy there, has his friends round when he’s off.  You could…’

Armie had shut down, he barely heard what his mother said.  He left the room.

He was angry.  That fucker had his house, the home that he was meant to share with him, he didn’t know what was more painful, the fact that he was alone or that Timothée was in their home. Their home.  It was a good job he wasn’t in front of him.

 

‘You still think it might shake some sense into him?…He didn’t say anything.  Still not sure... Do you really think it was wise to give the house to Timothée?

‘It’s Armie’s house, and it will eventually be his responsibility. Timmy doesn’t own it.  He’s just caretaking and he knows that.  Anyway it’s time Armie found his own apartment, we moved out so that we could enjoy not having any big responsibilities, having that big lump of misery around is killing me.  I want you to myself and every time I go into the lounge he’s there moping around.  He has to go.’

‘Give him a break Michael, he’s in love and he doesn’t know how to handle it.  Every time he faces a big step, he runs away, he’s always done it – it’s just taking a different form.  He still wants Timmy.  He’s hiding. And Timothée is hiding too.  They are just doing it differently.  Can’t you let him have some leeway?’

‘He’s always had leeway Annabelle.  He’s grown up with a devil’s pact.  He looks like a God, he has brains and he’s personable.  And he has always felt sorry for himself.  It’s time he grew up.  Timothée is perfect for him, he’s besotted, even I can see that.  I know I was harsh on him, I didn’t, don’t understand how someone with so many things going for them could be so contrary, especially as he knows how to make his life easy. Step into it, rather than away. He can like women, so sleep with women…it’s an easier life than being homosexual.  He didn’t have to come into the company, I could live with that, not everyone is suited to that life.  I was more disappointed that he couldn’t talk with me honestly about any of this.  I know it’s his nature…I don’t have to forgive him or have him forgive me, I just want him to be happy, no not even happy, content.  He has a lot going for him.’

 

Armie heard everything as he stood behind the door, as his father intended.  He didn’t bother to defend himself, he knew he had some work to do.

He knocked on their bedroom door. ‘I’m going for a walk.’  And drove straight round to his house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter follows shortly. Decisions have to be made.


	17. Seventeen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back together again...
> 
> This is fiction, I don't know them and as far as I know Armie has never flown a plane.

The pin number had changed, that fucker, who did he think he was. He pressed angrily on the call button. No-one answered.

He turned round and parked out of sight on the approach road of the next house.  He could see who was driving down the road to his house.

Half an hour later, Timothée drove up in his mother’s old car, a seven year old black BMW X3. That made him madder.  Then he caught onto himself. No point going wild. He sat for fifteen minutes, got out of the car and walked around for another fifteen.  Then drove to the house, his house.

Timothée calmly buzzed him in and opened the gates remotely. He’d seen the car and knew who it was. A new security system had been installed that controlled all exits. He didn’t need to actually come to the door, he saw everything on a screen and opened the door. The system could also go to manual, he didn’t need to have it on all the time it could be set to a simple alarm on a pin and door keys, he just wanted to mess with Armie.  He was sitting in the open plan area.

‘I don’t have to leave.  If I want, I can have you thrown out.’

That fucking mouth.

‘Get upstairs.’

‘Why?’ A smirk.

‘Get the fuck upstairs.’

 

Armie had been semi-hard since he had seen the car sweep by.  He couldn’t fucking help it.

Timothée got up and started taking his clothes off as he calmly went to the stairs, first his tracksuit top, dropped it to the floor.  Then his t-shirt, dropped over the side of the stairs.  Then sat on the steps and watched as Armie approached him and stood at the bottom of the stairs.

‘Wait there.’  Timothée waited on the mid-point, a small landing.

Timothée took off his sneakers, then his socks.  Turned round and took his tracksuit bottoms off, no underwear. Bent over and stepped out of the pants, his ass smooth, his hole pink. Stroked his lengthening dick.

Armie swallowed, everything he wanted was in front of him, his breath had grown short. Nerves were tingling.

Timothée threw a look across his lovely shoulders, back at Armie.

‘I haven’t fucked anyone since you.’

‘You’re lying.’

A laugh.

‘How do you know?’

‘I know you are a fucking liar. Get upstairs.’

He watched that sweet ass swing into their bedroom.  Timothée left the door open.

‘Don’t waste time, get in here.  I’ve been waiting a long time for this.’

Armie had to smile.

Once in the room, he undressed and calmly said.

‘Get on your knees. I am going to fuck you.’

Timothée giggled.

‘Come on then.’

Armie pulled his dick, it was dripping pre-come, he squeezed the tip upwards, it hardened and stood upright ready for fucking.  He groaned.

‘Oh fuck…’

Carried on stroking and pulling until he got to the bed.

Drooled a long slick of spit down Timothée’s ass, watched as it slipped down, and across his hole.  Pressed a finger in, pulled the hole open.  Timothée buckled into his finger.

‘Put it in.’ He hissed.

‘Happy to oblige.’

Armie reached round and roughly held onto Timothée’s cock, seated himself inside Timothée, pressed his dick forward up the hilt, Timothée sunk to his elbows, legs wide asshole open. Nobody felt like Timothée, he remembered how Timothée’s ass could grasp him, the walls of his ass had a particular grip, the ring of a hole, the press of the area near his stomach, he felt it all.  Timothée’s body knew his.

Armie took hold of Timothée’s dick with his large hands and began to stroke end to end, stopping occasionally to hold and rub the crown. He squeezed it hard, Timothée stopped moaning and started muttering Armie’s name, he held his position…enjoying the sensation… full of Armie…on the verge of coming…started holding onto Armie’s dick with ass muscles…internal muscles pushing  downwards onto Armie’s dick…he held on…pausing…held his ass open…relaxed…as he felt the orgasm beginning…he wanted to feel everything…grunted…he just needed one more stroke to come.  Armie let go, he knew his lover’s body, knew when he was about to come. It all came back to him. He gripped Timothée’s hips and started pounding him hard.

‘I’m going to come first and you have to wait.’

His muscles were beginning to work collectively, preparing…pulling in from the muscles in his backside…he wound himself, grinding further into Timothée’s body…started to give in to the coming tremors.  

Timothée shifted, he raised himself, took hold of his dick and started stroking in time with Armie’s pounding.

‘Please Armie…I’m so close…please…oh fuck…’

Armie remembered what his father said, compromise. And let Timothée settle, stopped pounding and started to make love to his boyfriend.

‘What do you want baby?’

‘’You can fuck me hard, just let me come you son of a bitch.’

 

‘Got any food?’

‘Yeah…what do you want?  I can make you a sandwich.’

‘…Changed my mind…come over here I wanna fuck you again.’

Armie’s hand delved under the covers, making room to accommodate his rising penis, stroking it and enjoying the sensation.

‘I’m a bit sore…you were rough.  I’ll blow you if you want.’

 ‘No. I wanna fuck you.  I missed you. And your ass.  I’m hard…so fucking hard just thinking about that ass.’

Armie threw off the covers, he was magnificent, all of his body was hard.  He lay on his back, the stomach muscles were tense, one arm behind his head, his other hand gently moving on his dick, legs slightly apart, all lined and grooved.  He knew his effect. Timothée’s eyes began to glisten and widen, his mouth fell slightly apart, the tip of his tongue tasted the inner lining of his mouth, the edge of his lip and began to suck upon it as he watched Armie’s hand begin to stroke harder. 

‘…I’ll blow you…then you can fuck me.’

 

‘Where’s my sandwich.’

‘Demanding.’

‘Yeah.  I have all kinds of hunger.’

‘Jesus Christ.  What happened to you.  Your dick…it’s non-stop…’

‘It’s been a long time.  Just now I can’t get enough of you.  Look, it can go again…put your hand on it…or your mouth…oh fuck…yeah baby…one more time…then I think…oh Christ...Timmy…that mouth...yeah lick it baby…suck that motherfucker…’  Timothée’s tongue swiping, hand rolling and mouth sucking combination nearly finished Armie off…his dick was agonisingly sensitive…Timothée rested, took a finger into his mouth, sucked on it, slicked it with saliva and put it in Armie’s hole…put his mouth to sucking hard…Armie felt the familiar feeling rolling down his lower back to his hole, muscles began to rhythmically grip…he came quickly…kissed Timothée deeply and for a long time…wanting to share…stroked his back in pleasure and gratitude, rolled over and fell to sleep satiated and finally tired.  Timmy pulled the cover open to reveal Armie’s prone and tranquil body…gazed upon him…now all soft muscle and…soft dick: ‘All Mine’ he whispered in his ear, sucked and kissed his lobe gently, Armie murmured softly in agreement, ‘Yes baby, all yours’.

Timothée got up and showered.  He was happy, for now. Made dinner.


	18. Eighteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A backwards look at how they got to where they are now.
> 
> This is fiction, I don't know them and as far as I know Armie has never flown a plane.

‘This is my house.’

‘No.  Currently it is mine, and if we are going to make anything of this. It will be our home.’

Timothée had cooked them a steak dinner, Armie’s favourite.  Armie’s steak was just so, a soft deep pink inside, a glossy brown outside the rib bone still attached, completed by potato wedges and a salad.  Timothée preferred his steak medium, a soft brown all the way through, both steaks were tender, he’d gone shopping and he borne Armie in mind, he knew what he liked.  Belle had rung him to say Armie was liable to come round anytime soon.

In fact Belle and Michael had been working on Armie as soon as he announced he and Timothée had split.  They were dismayed.  They were already planning a wedding for them both, well they had teased Armie about a wedding, it was another nail in the relationship because they hadn’t realised how overwhelmed Armie was.  And that was it, Armie himself hadn’t realised how overwhelmed he was.

After the first telling of the separation, Belle rung Timothée and invited him out for dinner.  He went but everything was too close, he wasn’t ready and he took unkindly to what he saw as interference. Belle never minded and sent him the occasional text or private IG.  It took until he went to see his own mother before he could listen equitably to Belle, and then Belle pressed him into giving her Esther’s phone number and email.  Esther and Belle met once, got on, got the husbands together and all spent a weekend at Las Vegas at the MGM.  The potential in-laws so different in attitudes and lifestyles, were joined in their concern, used that as base for friendship. Sometimes Belle would point Timothée in the direction of a film or a show, and took him to a touring production of Hamilton in Las Vegas, they stayed overnight with Esther. Between Esther and Belle, they got Timothée’s confidence back, and turned their attention to Armie. A tougher proposition. Timothée was laughing to himself, everyone was intriguing against Armie, poor soul hadn’t a clue.  Alan had tried to schedule them together, Timothée was having none of it and swapped out his whole schedule for a month with a close colleague called Trevor who at the time, never cared when he flew or who he flew with; all he had to do was confess why he needed to change and Trevor said: ‘No Problem.’  He spoke to Trevor because he had been in a similar situation last year, a girl he had been dating and thought he was going to marry turned round and gave his ring back on the basis she wasn’t ready when the real reason was that she was sleeping with a married pilot who kept promising to leave his wife.  The schedulers had to keep everyone apart for the following three months, it was a nightmare, the pilot changed his base and promised his wife that he wouldn’t see the girl again.  This was straightforward, just a swap for a month.  Trevor was living free and easy, he wasn’t tied to anybody or anything. He could do a favour for a month or so and then the schedules would come right again.  He knew if he needed a favour, Timothée would help him out.

 

Belle sought advice from Esther, who gave her a few tips.  She tried them out.  One day not long after Belle and Michael had moved, Armie came to spend his lay over days with them.  He was there for two nights.  He was helping his mother prepare dinner.  It was cosy, they’d had a couple of glasses of wine, well Armie did his mother had had just one and was saving her other one for after dinner.

‘You don’t have to think about giving Timmy a second chance you know.  You could always just give yourself time from thinking about what to do.  What do you think?’

‘I don’t want to talk about it. Pass me the carrots I’ll peel them, do you want me to slice them or julienne them?’

Later over the same meal.

‘Michael, I managed to book those tickets. I’ll be gone for the weekend of the 15th next month.’

‘Good, glad for you my dear. Armie, will you be here – it’ll just be us two old boys together, do you wanna come to the club?’

‘Where are you going?’

‘Las Vegas, Hamilton is playing there, the touring production.  Timothée and I are going, Esther’s offered me a bedroom.’

Armie was reeling.

‘What do you mean Esther’s offered you a bedroom.’

‘Are you deaf? I am going to see Hamilton with Timothée and we are going to stay with Esther.’

‘How can he be sure?  The schedules are not done.’

‘He spoke with Alan, who said that he would sort it for him. Do you want to come?

It was his mother, he didn’t swear, he just left the table, his legs uncertain.  He wanted to call Esther and Timothée to ask what the hell was going on and to tell them to leave his family alone.

‘I might come with you, Joseph and I could finish that game. More fun when we are together.’

‘What game?’ Armie turned back.

‘We found an online version of Donkey Kong.’

He kept walking, there was no escape.

Belle and Michael hit a high five.

 

A week later.

‘Hey, do you remember me?’

‘Sorry who is this?’

‘Elizabeth.’

Silence.

‘Armie?’

‘Hello Elizabeth.’

‘How are you?’

‘Well.’

‘Are you going to be monosyllabic?’

Armie had the grace to chuckle.

‘I’m having a party, I thought you might like to come.  Not as my date, just come and enjoy yourself.’

‘When is it?’  Armie was in LA.

‘Next weekend.’

‘I should be around. Am flying to Melbourne tomorrow.  Give me the details.’

He was back, but he didn’t go. 

Instead he went to Darlinghurst and walked around the bars, found himself outside The Green Park and went in, it was a Friday night and busy. He sat at the end of the bar, out of the way, alone and unhappy because happy memories kept came flooding back, creating a dichotomy of feelings in him. Another singleton came over to talk to him who soon realised he was wasting his time.  Armie had a few drinks, left and walked all the way back to the apartment, tired and confused he sat down and cried.

Elizabeth didn’t call again.

 

A week later.

‘Let’s go play golf.’

‘Golf?’

‘Yes.  Your Mom got me some gift vouchers I can use them for a day at the club playing golf with a plus one.  We’ll have a good walk if nothing else.’

‘You don’t even like those people.’

‘No. But this is free and I’d like to spend some time with you.’

‘We can eat steak at a restaurant for that.’

‘’A walk is better.’

‘I can’t play for shit.’

‘I don’t give a fuck. Let’s walk.’

 

They had played several holes, it was going to be a short game, only half the course, Michael broached the subject he had always intended discussing:

‘Now Armie, what actually happened with Timothée, we never got to the bottom of this.’

Armie contemplated what he should say.

‘He wanted a decision.’

‘On what?’

‘The house, my divorce…I don’t know…we didn’t discuss things properly…he left before I could talk to him about it.’

‘You still haven‘t told me what happened.’

‘I told you he wanted decisions. I wasn’t in a place where I could make them.’

‘What did he want?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Armie, you try my patience.  What happened?’

‘You gave me the fucking house.  What was I supposed to do with that? I was living with him so that meant he had to come to the house with me.’

‘Why?’

‘Why what? Do you mean I could move into the house and leave him behind?  I didn’t want that. I wanted him with me.  I am talking about something else.  We were happy.  I didn’t have to explain what I wanted. We just were…we just being…existing…I…we were in a serious relationship. Once you gave me the house, he wanted a clear indication of what we were. I didn’t have an answer for him and that meant that I didn’t really want him…that was confusing for me, I couldn’t answer him…I didn’t know myself what we were doing. Everything happened so fast, one minute I was saying I don’t…then…next he was packing and leaving.’

‘Do you know now?’

‘I was going to get a divorce, I just didn’t see the need for a rush. I was with him, the marriage is nothing, a convenience, not important.’

‘Have you divorced Chelsea? Where are you with that?’

‘This whole thing is tricky.  I am so confused…I was angry.  In some ways I resent him moving in with me.  It’s my house, if I share it with him, it’s no longer my house, it’s ours.  I didn’t want to share the house...I didn’t know what we were sharing and I didn’t know if I wanted to share the house with him…the situation changed so quickly…we were free and happy…the house tied…ties…me down.  I have to know how I stand too…I know how I get…especially if I don’t know I am on safe ground.  It’s not about how I feel about him.  I am very certain…was certain about what I felt for him. You know I can’t share him…how I am with him…You saw us…I mean I couldn’t share him.  If we went out, he couldn’t spend too long talking to other people – I wanted him with me all the time.  I couldn’t…can’t…do without him Pa.  I couldn’t imagine a time without him, and now he’s not here and I don’t know how that happened…How did that happen Pa?’

‘I don’t really know him Armie.  My observation is that he asked you two very specific questions.  Two very reasonable questions and you didn’t answer him.  He needed to know about the house, because even on just a practical basis he needed to know if he would have to give up his old arrangements, make new ones…he had to find out if you were really serious about him, because if he came into that house he becomes dependent…on you.   He is giving up a lot including his personal freedom.  And I am not talking about his physical presence or freedom. His emotional freedom too, he has to invest heavily in his relationship with you Armie. It’s no longer let’s see how this goes, it’s I am making a home with this person.  What is my standing with him?  And your being divorced is part of that, you are not a free man Armie.  You’ve turned him into your mistress, and you won’t leave your wife.’

‘That is not how it is…you’re being unfair…this is…’

Armie put down his club, and walked back to the clubhouse.  This was too much.

In fact over the next couple of weeks, instead of getting to grips with his problems, Armie got worse, in mood and behaviour.  The conversation during the ‘walk’ had uncovered the heart of the issue, one which he still would not answer. What was Timothée to him?

Lying in bed with his wife later that night Michael was very direct:

‘He does not know his ass from his elbow. That boy wanted him and is pining after him now, and he does not know it, does not recognise his indecision caused them both pain.  I could shake him, does he expect things to just stay the same all the time? He should realise that this is what life is:  small pains, small victories and a life of trifling worries.  All he had to say to Timothée is I don’t know the answers, give me some time.  Instead he was indecisive, and I know why he did it, it’s a stupid way to ensure neither of them got hurt.  Who’s hurting the most now?  Timothée will one way or another come round, it might take him months or years, but he’ll be alright.  Our boy thinks he has screwed up and he is not dealing with it because he thinks he does know how to…in fact he’s screwed up twice, one by not dealing with it at the time and two he is still lying to himself, he says he is still not ready to answer Timothée.  The longer he leaves off resolving this, the greater the chance that Timothée will walk away.’

Armie had not come back after the walk.  He went into LA, had a late lunch and went on to St Felix – somewhere more discreet than the normal gay bars, got talking to a pleasant man who took him back to his place and tried to fuck his way out of his problems.  He returned home in the morning feeling dirty and guilty, his mother just ruffled his hair as he sat in the kitchen, drinking coffee.

‘Laundry today Armie, leave your things out if you want them done.

She understood he had to get worse before he could get better.  And the conversation with his father was a tipping point. Hopefully upwards.  Armie turned sombre, he got on with his work and  spent his down time in LA with his parents.  He now spend the odd night away from their condo, they didn’t ask where he went.  They were just glad that he was beginning to spend time independently, it was good and an acknowledgement that there were things he had to get sorted out for himself.

He turned to Frank when he was in Australia, they didn’t always have sex, but it was comforting when they did.  Armie could not now just go out looking for a fuck, his head was still with Timothée, his body demanded sex, so best to go with someone who cared but did not expect a relationship.  He had Frank in Australia, and a similar fuck buddy that he re-kindled things with in LA.

The following week he was walking through Sydney airport to go onto a flight back to LA and saw Timothée, who was with a crew that he did not know at all.  This sometimes happened, the scheduling could throw together a group of people that did not know each other, he knew some of his own cabin crew, not well and not by name, and none of the flight crew.  That was alright and in some ways best, they didn’t know his story or feel sorry for him.  He looked across the departures lounge and there he was, going in ahead of him with a group of people he didn’t know.  He knew those curls and the back of the head anywhere, the dip of the shoulders leading into the slight shudder of laughter.  He held back. His colleagues looked at him, one of them, he didn’t know who said:

‘You OK?’

‘Yes, Yes, just thought I saw someone I knew.’

He realised it was true.  He didn’t know Timothée really, he hadn’t given him the chance to develop their relationship. That pretence about not confirming anything to do with the house and the divorce was self-serving. He took a deep sigh and paused. He was in stasis. He sensed the beginning of a thought process like he was watching himself begin to put together something in his mind that he could bring to Timothée.  He looked over to where he had been standing. Timothée was gone.  He had to move on.

 

He started looking at a transfer to LA.  He had to be based there, Timothée was there and his family was there. He had to be based somewhere and being in Australia was no longer fun.  He actively began to think that even if he couldn’t get back with Timothée he could make a go of his life in LA, there were more opportunities, he’d earn less, on the plus side if he took shorter routes or took a job flying internal flights or went freelance then he would have more control over his time.  He needed to be in one place, his house was in California, that was where he was going to be eventually, with or without Timothée.  He kept his plans quiet, but the change in his attitude was noted, he seemed more settled and happier.

 

‘So when are you going to sign the house over to me?’

That was when his parents told him they had signed the house over to Timothée.

‘We’ve rented the house to Timmy.’


	19. Nineteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reconciliation.
> 
> This is fiction, I do not know them and as far as I am aware Armie has never flown a plane.

They were cautious with each other.  Matters were skipped lightly over, they didn’t argue, no one disagreed or queried anything.  Life was bland. Safe and bland.

‘Have you updated the calendar?’ They had a joint Google calendar for their schedules.  Timothée could be more flexible, he let Armie sort out his schedule and tried to work around him.  The only thing that wasn’t bland was their sex life, they made up for lost time.  The week that Armie returned to the house was mostly spent in bed.

One day whilst Timothée was away but due, a small parcel turned up for Armie.  The Amazon Prime man rang the bell at the pin pad.  Armie told him to wait, he put on some flip flops and a pair of what he called house shorts – shorts that had seen better days, which Timothée threatened to throw out. He also pulled on a house t-shirt.  He’d get washed and changed in time for Timothée’s return, he was going to pick him up.  He took the parcel which was small but too big to go into the mail box which was embedded in the wall next to pin pad.  He started to open it as he walked back.

‘What the fuck!’

It was a Doc Johnson Mood – Naughty, a silicone butt plug.  Timothée had kindly provided a gift tag:

‘Put it in.’

…and some water based lube.

Armie retired to the bathroom he thought he would try this thing, and shower in time to drive to the airport. He was nervous. He was dominant and although he didn’t mind being fucked he had to really trust the other person, he didn’t like being submissive neither did he use sex toys.  Timothée was testing him.  He spent a few moments looking at Google to work out what to do.  He went back to bed, and lay down. He decided to ‘warm’ himself up, firmly grasped his dick and worked on it until it was hard but not ready to come, got on his knees and started massaging his hole, pressing a finger lightly in. It was pleasurable. Started to think it might actually be enjoyable.  He got hold of the toy and pressed it into place, it was beginner’s size, he groaned, it felt fucking amazing.   Stroked himself to orgasm and passed out.

Timothée came home because he could not raise any kind of response from Armie’s mobile or the house landline, and found Armie fast asleep, naked, ass clearly in view, lying in crumpled sheets on the bed. He got undressed, quietly went over to him.

‘Armie, wake up’

He tapped him on his ass. Pulled out the plug.  Armie grunted and then moaned.

‘Fuck me Timothée’

Timothée obliged.

For the second time in his life on orgasm Armie’s eyes rolled over into his head.  On both occasions Timothée had been present.

 

‘Enjoyed that eh?’

‘Wow, I never tried one of those before.  Who taught you about that one?’

‘Nobody…’

‘Timothée…’

‘Well, since you didn’t want to fuck me. I found a few people who didn’t mind and they taught me things.’

‘Really?  How many men have taught you things Timothée?’

A mistake had been made.

Rather than argue Timothée got up and made to go to the bathroom.

‘Where are you going?  You were off fucking whilst I was worrying if I had lost you.’

Timothée decided discretion was better than fighting, and kept his mouth shut, he had divulged too much already.

‘Come here, I haven’t finished talking to you. Son of a bitch.  How many men did you sleep with whilst we were apart?  I didn’t sleep with anyone you don’t know.  Only Frank and Teddy.  Yeah, my old fuck buddies. People that you know and who are safe.  Who did you sleep with?  Did you use a condom?’

‘Don’t talk to me like that.’ Timothée was full on shouting now. ‘You were the one that left me no options.  Am I supposed to keep myself and my ass free, ready for when you decide to come for me.  You couldn’t even tell me what I meant to you, you piece of shit.  Yeah, like a piece of shit, that is how you treated me.  Like something you could throw to the ground, trash, rubbish under your feet. Not worth discussing anything openly with,’

Armie stood up and roared.

‘I did not throw you to the ground, you idiot.  I was trying to protect you.  I didn’t know myself what I was doing, so I decided not say anything.  This fucking house has been the cause of all our problems, I never wanted it.  It’s too much responsibility. I don’t need it.  I never needed it.  What I wanted was to live in an apartment with you.  Something manageable.  This is not manageable.  It’s too much for me.  I still don’t want it.’

‘Why didn’t you say so, you fool?’

Armie, sat on the bed and started crying.

‘You are too much for me, you mean too much to me.  When you went I was distraught.  I couldn’t sleep. I had to call in sick, I was like a fucking zombie.  You just left me and you wouldn’t talk to me. I missed you so much. You little shit.  I needed you and you went off like you didn’t care. You left me.’

‘Oh Armie’

‘Sorry’

‘The questions are still there.’  Timothée turned serious.

‘You can’t just decide for yourself, either we are together or we are just fuck buddies, which is it?’

‘Don’t cheapen what we had. It wasn’t a question of being together or just fucking.  I was very happy.  I wanted for nothing, you were what I wanted.  You were with me, I didn’t need you to confirm the status of our relationship.  It just was.’

‘You are talking in the past tense. What do you want now?  You came to the house a month ago.  You still won’t talk about what caused all this.  All you want to do is fuck.  Is that all you want?  Because I am getting fed up of just rolling in and out of bed.’

Armie had mis-judged the situation again.  He sighed heavily and rubbed his chin with a hand.  He needed to be careful what he said, he knew if he said the wrong thing again, this would mean that he would lose Timothée for good.

He couldn’t help himself.

‘I like fucking you.’

‘You can pay someone for that and they will fuck you better than me.’

‘But I won’t love them, and I won’t need them.  I love you Timothée and I need you.  You really don’t understand why I wouldn’t answer your questions?’

‘No, I don’t. It is quite straightforward to me. I am prepared to give up what I had before so that we can live together.  It meant…means that I am placing myself in your hands. I give up my home, the ability to go out when I want, I have to share my money and my possessions, above all I have to put you first.  And you won’t do that for me.  If you didn’t want the house, all you had to do was rent it out until you were ready to make a confirmed decision.  I know I was keen, but all you had to say was I want to be with you.  Let me work out if I want that to be here or somewhere else. Instead you shut me out.

I don’t care if you are married.  Did I tell you to get divorced?  Can I ask if you are going to get divorced? Yes, that is my right. I am your partner.  I might not like your answer, you could have been evasive or better yet told the truth - that you were unsure about your status as a resident and therefore your job or if Chelsea might make your life difficult and refuse to divorce you. If I was minded, I could have found out about your marriage before you told me, all marriages are a matter of public record, you just need to know where to look.  Divorce is the same.  I had already worked these things out Armie, I wrote down all the options long before you were given the house.  I had to think about what I was getting myself into. I researched you.  You have a very distinctive name, you come up in a lot of Google searches, idiot.  You are known.  Your father is very well-known.  Your brother is a high-flyer in his field.  Your mother does a lot under the radar for Jewish charities and concerns.  What the fuck did you think?  That I was coming in cold?

The only difference between us is that I would have given you any amount of time to discuss this or allow us to work out this together. You never considered giving me a chance to talk about any of this.  You made an immediate decision to hold back, pretending to protect me when really you made up your mind how to handle the questions more or less immediately, without any input from me.  How was that supposed to work?

I give off stupid, but I am not a fool.  Look at my family I can’t afford to be.  They taught me too well and they look out for me Armie, remember that. They are my safety net, I trust them I don’t know if I can trust you yet. And, if I am going to stay with you, you have to start talking to me and agreeing with me what _we_ are going to do if what is up for discussion is going to impact on either of us.’

What Armie heard was the _if I am going to stay with you_ , it gave him pause, in fact in truth his stomach lurched, what did Timothée mean?

‘What do you mean, “if I am going to stay with you”, I am not going anywhere – I made a mistake Timothée, in fact I have made a number of mistakes, I am making one right now.  I said I didn’t want the house. I am not being truthful, I can’t let this house go.  What I am having difficulty with is the idea that this is permanent.  Nowhere to go, no changes, stuck. That I have to make a decision about us.’

‘Are you telling me that you aren’t sure if you want to be with me?  That is why I had to go before.’

‘I don’t mean that.  What I mean is I don’t know what we are or have.  I only know that I love you and right now I want to be with you and I can’t see anyone or anything that I want more. You are what I want Timothée, do you want me to put a label on it? A definition? My significant Other?  My husband or civil partner?’

‘Yes.  You have to put a label on it. On me.  I want to know what I am to you, it can’t be we’ll just go along until something or someone makes us question what we have.  If we have a label we have a thing, something worth working for, fighting for.  You don’t like me spending time with other people, talking to other people at parties or dinner, but you don’t want to label that.  Your very reaction is a label, don’t you get it?  You don’t get to have any control or ownership unless you claim it and to claim it it must have a label you fucker.  Do you want me as your significant other, as someone who you place above all others? Whose body is not shared, and that you trust is so? The person that is your person, no-one’s else? Exclusively yours?  That is what I want Armie, and if you can’t or don’t want to do this, I can’t be with you.  I can get that eventually with someone, I want it to be you.  I want you to call me “Mine” and mean it in all ways explicit and implicit in everything you do.  I want to be possessed by you.’

Suddenly Armie came to realisation, he had been fighting the definition but not the feeling.  He was already possessed by Timothée, he had to do the same for Timothée and allow himself to be regarded as Timothée’s partner in the ways that it meant.  He recognised that he had been resisting the concept but not the truth that Timothée had call on him, and he had not been making his expectations of Timothée clear, behaving as if he had already stated everything that Timothée was demanding. This was fucking tough.

‘I don’t know what to say Timothée, I think I got this all wrong.  I thought it was clear and I didn’t need to tell you.’

He thought again.  What was he trying to say? He wasn’t sure he was ready to commit himself to a lifetime with Timothée, what words could he use?  If he said that for now he knew what he wanted would that be sufficient to hold Timothée? That made him sound like a possession, something material, is that what Timothée wanted? What did he want?  He was searching himself, what he really wanted was to feel something so bone deep that it was unquestionable.  It was too soon to have made that decision.  He knew that Timothée would see it, it was there behind his eyes, he couldn’t hide it. Then he remembered what Glen had said, moved in after six months, spent another year testing each other.  That was something, and he held onto it, a start.

‘Timothée, you are all I think about, I don’t want anyone else, I want to live with you, I only want you. I don’t want to share you with anyone in bed or otherwise. You are mine.’ He couldn’t commit himself further.  ‘What do you want from me?’

‘I don’t think I can ask you for anymore…now…I wanted the same from you.  Can we stay in the house?  I love it here and I love being here with you.  Do want me to give it back?’

‘The house isn’t mine.  I’ve realised this house will never belong to me.  That’s why it always felt like a responsibility, something I never wanted.  It belonged to my parents and now it belongs to you, I have always been a guest here, it merely tolerates me.  Some houses belong to you and others you are always passing through.  As long as you are here I will be here too.  I conflated not wanting the responsibility of the house with my feelings for you, sorry.’

Timothée flung his arms around him.  ‘I Love You Armie.’

‘I’ve spoken to Chelsea, she understands.  We are going to say that we have been separated for six months. I have to wait another six months, so separation for twelve months in total then the actual process takes around another three months. It makes no difference to us – it is only a process to sort out my former life Timothée.  Do you understand me, divorced or not we are in this together, this is real.’

Timothée got into his lap.

‘You don’t have to do that’

‘Do what? This?’

Timothée kissed his neck.  Armie began to sweat.  Timothée always made him feel like this, his body was on fire, his head had gone up into the ether, his whole neck felt the kisses, his brain switched off for the duration. Good night, you are on your own now, I leave you to your body.  You can cope.  He couldn’t.  He always wanted to ravish Timothée, to touch and pull at his skin, and Timothée let him. No one else knew how to respond to him like Timothée, he gave as much as he took.  Tears came to his eyes again.

‘You’ve got too many clothes on…take them off Armie, We are going to make love.  You don’t have to feel like you have to possess me sexually. I also am not going anywhere. Make love to me.’

Timothée kissed his eyelids, started stroking his face.

‘I love you baby, what ever has passed has gone. We have each other and we understand each other, don’t we?’

Timothée punctuated each phrase with a kiss. A kiss to each eye. Each lip sucked into his mouth and Armie let him, he gave himself over to Timothée and to his body.

‘Lie down.  Help me, I am going to take off your clothes.’

Timothée pulled off the t-shirt, and set about using his mouth on Armie’s body; his tongue variously making thin and thick licks, sucking on his nipples, fingers making the same pattern elsewhere on his body.  Chasing hair down his stomach down to the vee of his groin with his tongue and saliva. As wet as the pre-come arriving on Armie’s dick. Timothée lifted his arm, sniffed the hair under his arm and grunted.

‘Nice, you haven’t washed.’

Licked and sucked the hair there, his hand began stroking through cloth.  Armie parted his legs, Timothée began to roughly push down, then squeezed Armie’s dick which responded. He undid the fly, pushed his hand in and began to kiss Armie deeply, stroking in time with pushing his tongue into Armie’s mouth. Armie bore his weight gladly, Timothée’s arms and legs forming an embrace around his flesh.

Timothée scrambled off the bed, removed his clothes.

‘Lift your ass’

Pulled both trouser and shorts down, down and off his body.  Armie was naked apart from socks.  He left them on, they made Armie vulnerable, soft. Timothée straddled him and sat on top of his dick. Sat on it and began rubbing himself up and down as it hardened.  Armie just lay there, his arms behind his head. Timothée sat further back,  his ass actively rubbing, his hole directly on Armie’s dick.  Armie took control, rolled him over, hooked an arm under one of Timothée’s legs, used the other to feed his dick into Timothée’s hole.

‘No lube…’

‘No, I want you to feel me, I won’t hurt you.’ 

And he didn’t.


	20. Twenty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noodling and Talking...
> 
> This is fiction, I do not know them and as far as I know Armie has never flown a plane.

‘I’ve asked for a transfer.’

They were lying in bed, noodling, chatting and just generally hanging out.  

‘OK, what have you actually asked for Armie?’

‘I just asked if there are any vacancies coming up for Virgin Atlantic, you know LA to Europe.’

‘OK, that’s quite a change.  Will you be based in LA, then?’ 

Timothée held his breath, he wasn’t sure if that was what he wanted. Like Armie he had to work out his new bearings.  Technically, Armie was still based in Sydney, technically he didn’t live in the house.  He had only brought enough clothes with him to last the days that he was actually in LA.  If he got the transfer, this would change things, dramatically.

‘Still long haul, then.  Is that what you want to continue with?  Sorry, that’s a stupid question, let me re-phrase it…what I really mean is will you be able to spend more time here with me…I mean…when are you going to bring your stuff here?

Armie started laughing.

‘I wondered when you were going to ask me that.  I wanted to wait for you to ask me.  I want your permission.  This is your house, Timothée, your home.  I don’t want to impose.’

Timothée got up onto his elbows, peered into Armies face.

‘Really?  Really?  You are asking for my permission to move your things into the house?’ A sly smile.

He lay back down and stretched a lazy leg over to touch Armie’s cock, used his knee as a point of close contact. Started rubbing him.

‘Stop it.’

But it felt nice. Fuck.

‘Timothée, I am trying to have a serious conversation with you.’

He moved Timothée’s knee away from his groin.

‘Give me a fucking chance, we can get onto that later.  Let me discuss this with you properly.’

There was a touch of impatience in Timothée’s tone.

‘Well, you didn’t discuss with me you just went ahead and did it.’

Timothée sounded huffy, rolled over to fetch the bottle of water he’d thrown down beside the bed.  Armie didn’t mind, this was his favourite aspect of Timothée, the ability to change from reasonableness to spoilt brat, it turned him on.  Timothée’s ass was there right in front him as he rolled over the edge of the bed to dip down to pick the bottle, his leg rising to balance himself before he fell off.  Armies dick started to rise, he put his hand on it – a furtive squeeze on the lip, another at just below to make it stop hardening, subdued the noise which rose in his throat, that ass was going to kill him.  He hoped Timothée didn’t notice the swelling under his pants.  Sometimes he would refuse Timothée just to make him feel slightly anxious. It meant the sex was always great and always held in anticipation – to Timothée, being denied felt like he would never get sex again, he hadn’t yet caught onto Armie’s teasing, and Armie hoped he never would.  Everything was novel and new to Timothée, he fucked like he had never fucked before and he never refused Armie.  Anyway, he could do with a rest – Timothée could be relentless.

‘I didn’t discuss it with you because you keep telling me that you want to spend more time with me, for fuck’s sake, what do you want?’

The Timothée giggle came across from the other side of the bed. When he turned round he had the Timothée look, the precious look that Armie could not resist, his body curling, the dick straightening and rising, a small smile rose from the corners of Timothée’s mouth, a smug look followed.

‘Yeah, I did say that.’

The leg came back.

‘You’re hard.’

Armie gave in.

 

‘Where were we? I think you telling me about transferring from Sydney to LA?’

‘I have to get some more training, and the medical, I might have to spend some time in the UK to get the right licence – the UK Civil Aviation Authority have to authorise me to fly in England.  It’s pretty different.  Weather patterns and the actual number of planes is very dissimilar to what we are used to here in California although from what I have heard LA is pretty busy which might compare to London airports.’

‘Are you going to leave me again, I just got you back baby, and you’re gonna fucking leave me.’

Armie stroked his arm, they had lain back down and were facing each other, resting their heads on arms, the other arms stroking various parts of bodies, more in comfort than in allure.

‘I’m not leaving you darling, just have to be able to fly in and out of the UK.  If I want to fly there I have to get some training and convert my FAA licence.  I am not sure if I want to transfer, change jobs or go into private work.  What do you think?’

Timothée’s heart jumped, here was Armie asking for his opinion.  It was the first time. At least the first time on something significant. He was treating him like he was truly his partner.  He rolled over to him to snuggle in to his arms, he reached up and started to kiss his neck and the soft places between neck and shoulder, brushing his hand over his chest, then brought as much of himself as he could into contact with Armie’s body.  He was not seeking sexual satisfaction, more an expression of feeling that he was loved…and Armie understood.

‘Darling, what’s the matter?’

‘Nothing.’

‘If I take a sabbatical will you come with me to London?’

‘Yes.’

‘So I still need answers: where can I put my clothes and stuff, and, what should I do?  Leave my job or try to get an internal transfer?’

‘Armie, you don’t have to ask me about where to put your things.  They belong in this room with you or around the house, how much stuff have you got now?  What happened to the things in Sydney?’

Timothée knew that Armie was spending time in Airbnb’s or cheap hotels, where were his things?

‘I chucked them or gave them away, same as you.’

They both laughed.

‘I literally only have two cases worth of stuff…like you.  I felt the same, didn’t want to be tied down able to go when I wanted with what was manageable.  I kept some things…’

‘What?’

He didn’t need to ask, Armie was wearing one of them a leather tie bracelet, plaited brown leather, fixed by a knot, something that had to be undone by another person. Armie had never stopped wearing it.  The other thing was an antique gold Star of David pendant and necklace, which Timothée had bought him in Sydney.  It was unusual because the triangles were not fixed, the pendant was made so the two pieces just fit together, like pieces of a puzzle when hung from a chain.  He was afraid he would lose it so he tended to keep it for special occasions.  He was beginning to think that he shouldn’t save up the wearing of it, he should wear it to re-inforce the very clear feeling that he did indeed belong to someone, the very dear man who was currently lying in his arms.

Timothée stroked Armies left wrist with the pad of a thumb.

‘When did you get this?’

‘This?’

‘Yes, that.  That’s Russian isn’t it?’

Armie went quiet.

‘What does it say?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Okay, that is not true, what does it say? Let me take a picture.’

‘It’s your name. I put it close to my heart.’

‘That’s romantic.  What would have happened if we never got back together?’

‘It wouldn’t have mattered.  I want to carry you around with me…don’t you care that I thought so much of you?’

‘Do you want to start that argument again.  I am not impressed. I would have been more impressed if you had been open and honest with me Armie.’

Armie didn’t know what was happening to him, he was variously turned on and distressed, he decided that it was a stress reaction, no need to act on it.  Timothée’s disregard was making him horny.  He was kind of shaking inside.

‘Why are you so rude?’

‘I wasn’t being rude.  Do you like me to be rude with you…Is that a thing now? Do you wanna fuck?’

The variousness of the situation lead to two things, Armie blushed from head to foot, he had to put his hand over his groin.

‘I’m not gonna let you fuck me again, what is the wrong with you?’

‘I can’t help it Timmy, you fucking turn me on.’

‘How old are you?  You’ve well past the age of instant hard-ons.’

‘I know.  We don’t have to fuck, we can…you know…’

‘You know what?…If you want something speak it.  I am done with this guess what I want business.’

‘At the moment, I can’t help it, I want you again.  Is that clear enough?’

‘Well I can’t comply.’

Armie took his dick in his hand, They were wearing pyjama bottoms but no underwear, he pulled it out and began to stroke it in full sight of Timothée who laid there and watched.  Armie turned onto his back.  He was going to enjoy it, it wouldn’t take long. His hand was turning and stroking top to bottom, he got his other hand and started feeling his balls, God that felt good, he didn’t have to work too much on his dick it was hard already.  He took one hand off and commenced feeling his balls, that was excellent, he took his time, feeling how they began tuck into his body as his dick hardened. He pulled the pyjama bottoms off.  He lay there for a moment, luxuriating in his nakedness, the room was quiet except for both of their shallow breathing, he went down to his balls again, reached down using one finger he began to caress the area of his perineum, and that started to send a message to his prostrate.  He turned over got up ass in the air, which mean he had more access to the underside of his body. Carried on caressing, until he could not bear it any longer, began to make the ‘O’ face, Timothée recognised he was coming.

 ‘Stop doing that, wait there’

He reached over, deliberately stretching across Armie who muttered something obscene and lay down on his side, and grabbed onto Timothée’s ass, and started searching for his hole, got a finger in and started finger fucking him. Timothée turned his back and leant over as he slicked lube on and squeezed the head of his dick.  Timothée let him continue with the finger fucking for a few moments, it helped harden his dick.

‘Get that ass back up in the air.’

He stuck his cock straight into Armie, who gasped, then immediately began to grip and squeeze it, tensing and releasing, rocking forward and backward, Timothée held himself still, he let Armie enjoy himself, both were savouring equal possession of each other’s body.

Armie stilled.

‘Fuck me slow baby.  Edge me.’ 

Timothée obliged, making slow thrusts, Armie began to moan… soft guttural sounds sounded from both of them.  Timothée did not speak, he waited instruction.

‘Take it out.’

Armie carried on stroking himself.

‘Suck me please.’

He lay down on his back.

‘Wait…fuck…I want to come…wait a moment…’

He got back onto his knees.  He was leaking, and very hard.

Timothée slapped him hard.  And again.

‘Oh Jesus…’

‘Are you clean…’

Armie could only groan, he knew what was coming. He couldn’t speak, he nodded.

Timothée spread him and began to eat him out.

‘Oh fuck yeah baby…that fucking mouth…’

‘Shut up.’

Another slap.

‘That’s hurting my hand.  I am gonna get something.’

He got a belt.

And gave Armie three sharp whacks.

Armie was now beyond caring.  He wanted to come so badly.  He was just holding on.

Timothée spoke.

‘Take that hand off, you fucker’

And recommenced with slow thrusting, just dick in ass, no holding on, no other physical contact.

They built up a steady rhythm, and Timothée began caressing Armie’s ass at the same time, using the opportunity to gently spread his ass to deepen penetration.

‘Get down and crack that ass for me.’

Timothée began very deep thrusting…for a long while, stopped and pulled out.  Let the cool air of the room circulate over Armie’s hole which stood open, he was moaning and cursing.

‘Lie down on your stomach.  Spread your legs…wait...’ 

Got a pillow made it flat and smooth and put it directly under Armie’s very hard cock so he could not escape any friction, then pulled the cock several times before he let him lie on the pillow, Armie gasped he wanted to cry in agony, and in pleasure.  Timothée got above him and started to fuck him, fucked him directly, Armie felt it like an arrow straight over his prostrate. He could not hold on.

‘Timothée can I come…please let me come…oh shit…you motherfucker…’  Timothée pulled out at an angle…Armie orgasmed as he felt the dick slide like an edge out of him…the rub against his ring of his hole was too much…he clenched and lost control. Timothée straddled Armie’s ass and stroked himself to orgasm, the cum spurting over his lover’s back. He caressed it into soft skin.  Armie was overcome, pinned down, quivering like the feathers on an arrow in flight, he could only lie there almost completely senseless.

‘We need to shower and change the bedclothes, you nasty fucker.’

He continued to sit on him, then slid his ass against the other, pressing him hard into the pillow.

Armie began to harden again, the words and the motion went straight to his dick…Timothée sat right on the flesh of his ass, dick down...right between the cheeks of his ass...still hard...he slid further…the cock tip edging again towards that soft hole…he could give him a few strokes before his cock softened…Armie blushed in need of it…heat ran through him…his body was on fire.

He turned hopeful eyes on Timothée, he had a way of turning blue eyes on him which were full of intention…and lust.

‘Is this a thing?’

‘…Yes’

A giggle.

 

They rested, a little nap, some sleeping.  They got up, opened a window, changed the bed, showered again, went downstairs, got something to eat, sat at the kitchen table chatting for a while; they had nowhere to go and nothing that needed doing, so they went back to bed with some books, iPads and phones.  They had a TV there too, no need to go back downstairs.  No need to even notice what time it was, it didn’t matter.

 

‘Is that pillow wet?’

‘You’re so nasty, so dirty.’ Smirking. ’No, I changed it, the other one’s in the machine.’

‘Where were we?  You haven’t answered my question about work.’

‘If you transfer or change airline – on second thought don’t change airline Armie, Virgin are good, well good in comparison to other airlines.  You can be more directive in bidding can’t you?  Do you have to transfer and change routes?  It’s the same planes isn’t it?  You don’t want to have to do training on type of plane as well do you?  I don’t know.  I think I want you to be home more, but I have to weight that up with the shorter routes, you’ll be around more but for less time.  I don’t know.  I think I would rather have you around for longer, that means keeping to similar flying times, basically same long haul.  What do you want? Yeah if you keep to long haul, that means in reality flying twice a month, three or four days there, and the rest of the time home, so I get you effectively for two weeks out of each month plus annual leave.’

‘I also considered going private, it’s a different licence and I would be at the behest of the person renting the plane, I might have to take off at anytime, let me walk that through with you…means that you couldn’t plan when I might be around, you could work the schedules you wanted, or get scheduled on, so you get freedom I don’t. I couldn’t tie you down like that.  And I don’t think I want to be given the run around by some spoilt rich bastard.

If I transfer…ermm…change routes and do London-LA, that is only eleven odd hours, still double crewed, two nights layover maximum, depending on schedule three flights a month, probably end up with the same amount of days at home but instead of a week at a time, probably more like three or four days.  I think I prefer longer haul, I get more time to rest, can even take a short break when I’m off – I have never done a cruise, have you?  What about we go with the parents?’

Timothée looked very hard at him.

‘A fucking cruise, how gay!’

Armie laughed. ‘I’m serious, we could go with the parents, mine are experienced cruisers, two trips down already.  We could do a short trip to the Caribbean, I’ve never been, have you?’

‘Anyway, we haven’t finished talking about your change of job.’

‘I’ve talked myself out of it.  Besides I have heard the short haul guys – the ones doing three or four hour flights, basically work nine to five, it’s tiring and boring.  We can talk to Alan and the guys and tell them we want to be scheduled together, you might get fewer flights, earn a bit less money, how does that sound?  It might not make any difference. Do you mind if I stay as I was?’

‘No.  It’s perfect. I can live off you, you’ve got loads of money, I’m not proud. And, I have your house and…your dick.’  He chuckled softly.

Armie gave him the goofy, loved up Armie look, it was OK by him too.

‘I’ll withdraw my transfer request…come here…’

‘But that means that our base is going to be in Sydney.’

‘Yes Timothée, we will be based in Sydney.’

‘Oh! I want to be based here.  So that we spend half the month here, not Australia.’

Armie facepalmed.

‘You have more flexibility than me, my base has to be in Australia.  I cannot be employed by Virgin Australia and base myself in LA, that is a condition of the job.  I can spend a lot of time with you here, but we cannot be based here.  The most amount of time I can spend here in one go is four nights, and then my annual leave which is six or seven weeks.  Your base is in Australia too, what are you thinking?’

‘I don’t know, you got me all confused…my brains currently reside in your ass.’

Armie looked pleased with himself and then smug.

‘And mine in yours.  What are we going to do? If we are going to reside in LA, I have to change routes and probably change job.  You can probably get a job quicker than me. If I need to take some time off to go to London to train and acclimatise then so be it, you can stop working for a while and stay with me or stay here.  I’ll apply for a job on LA-Europe routes, probably with an American airline, otherwise we have the same problem, my base will always be somewhere else.  What do you think?’

‘I don’t know, I want to give it some proper thought…oh…this is difficult.  It’s such a change.  I must admit I was thinking about whether I wanted to carry on with this work and what the options were.   Do you think I could manage a bar or run a hotel?’

‘Do you need money for training?  You don’t need to worry about that – do any course you like.’

‘Let me ponder Armie.’

‘Come on baby, let’s rest the brains.  We’ve been working them very hard today.’ The eyebrows raised, the mouth smirked. ‘What’s on Netflix?  Plenty of time to look into that other stuff.’

Timothée swallowed down a tear. He’d gone soft, and once again he wanted to get close to Armie, to lean against him emotionally and physically, this man was proving himself trustworthy, reliable and supportive.  He couldn’t believe his luck.  Armie gathered him and put his arm around him.

‘Don’t cry darling, I’d do anything for you.  That is just money.  What I have for you is above all of that.’


	21. Twenty-One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Consolidation & Integration. Domestic Bliss...
> 
> This is fiction. I do not know them and as far as I know Armie has never flown a plane

‘When are you two getting married?’

‘Don’t fucking start!’

‘Armie don’t talk to your mother like that!’

‘We’ve had that fucking conversation several times, she just hasn’t told you about it, and she won’t leave it alone.  It’ll have something to do with that fucking house.’  He turned on his heel and walked out.

‘Let him be…I’ll talk to him later, he is very sensitive about the house.  Keeps saying he doesn’t want it...but I don’t believe him. Says he regards it as either your house or my house so might be best to say nothing…until we do get married.’ He winked. ‘And don’t say anything about getting married either.’

It was a good thing that Michael was not in the room.

 

His parents decided to say nothing when Armie went back to the house and didn’t come home.  After he had driven to there to confront Timothée, Belle and Michael expected him back for dinner.  They didn’t know where he had gone and assumed he’d gone out to run an errand, though they suspected that he may have gone to see Timothée because they also hoped he had gone there, but had no expectation, not wanting to be disappointed.  They had noted that his mood had changed before he went out.  He was so worked up he’d left the condo without taking anything with him except the house keys which he normally left in the kitchen on a hook.  He didn’t phone the next day and the following day they got a text from Timothée to tell them he was with him and there nothing to worry about.  When he had been gone for a week, Belle texted Timothée to check that he was still with him.

‘Armie ring your parents.’

‘I am not a child, I can fuck who I want.’

‘They are not interested in who you want to fuck, they just want to know you are safe, call them please.’

He didn’t call, he texted them. He was being bolshy with them, still cross about the house, he felt tricked, he genuinely did not want the house despite asking for it to be signed over to him, he thought he was making an opening gambit, they had pre-empted the discussion.  That was what was so annoying.

They never paid him a bit of mind.  Belle texted him. <How’s Timothée?>  He didn’t respond.

 

‘You don’t want to talk to your parents, will you come with me to mine, this weekend?’

Armie looked at him like a lizard, he had a way of looking at Timothée like a lizard, malign and casual, his eyes half closed. Really? written in them and not spoken.

‘Why are you looking at me like that?  Are you coming or not?’

‘I’ll come.’

‘Armie.  This won’t work if you carry on behaving like everyone has done you wrong.  You didn’t say anything about the house, your parents wanted someone in it.  If you behave like a child, someone has to act like an adult and parent you. I have nothing else to say about the house. I can stay here until I am thirty unless your parents change their minds.  Your choice is to either deal with it or fuck off.’

Armie was shocked into sense. Timothée was right he had no choice. Then an idea popped into his head. He didn’t really care about the house, it felt like a millstone, a millstone that might not in any case completely disappear from his life.  He was fucking the tenant.  He had to admit he felt jealous, like he had lost out yet he didn’t want the house.  His brain blew a fuse when he thought about the house and it did the same when he and Timothée were fucking, his body was confused.

‘Let’s not discuss it.  Have you got any pastrami?  I can’t eat ham.  It’s beef, right? I can eat that.’

‘You can’t eat ham? You eat bacon sandwiches in Australia, you hypocrite.’

‘My mother is Jewish, and her mother before.  I am Jewish Timothée.’

‘Yet you eat bacon.  Grow the fuck up. I bought you that Star of David for a reason.’

‘That’s why I liked it.’

‘For fuck’s sake.  Why are you trying me, I’m Jewish too remember, why the fuck would I have ham.’

‘Yeah, I met your Ma, she told me.’

‘Have you ever seen me eat ham?’

‘No.’

‘Bacon?’

‘No.’

‘Do I observe?’

‘Yes.’

‘Because I know enough not to be a dick’

Timothée walked off. 

After that conversation an uneasy truce prevailed.  Armie calmed down, and begun to accept his situation, he was dating his soulmate, it was too good to jeopardise, he had to set some things right.  He called his Mom, she would help him.

 

‘Invite us round for dinner.’

‘What?’

‘Invite us round for dinner, he’s my partner and I want you to accept him as such.’

‘Armie, we have already accepted him, he is living in your house.’

‘Invite us round, make it formal, this is me saying formally he is my partner.’

‘We already did this.  He came for the weekend. We went shopping. I have more in common with him than you’

‘Please.’

‘OK, your father is going to go wild. You’ll have to pay for it.’

‘I didn’t expect you to pay, just to organise it for me.’

‘Who else do I have to invite?  If you are making it formal, you have to tell the wider family…hmmm…can’t be this weekend…too late to send invitations…when are you next in LA?’

‘I’m back at the end of the month, this weekend I’m going with Timothée to his parents. I’ve already been introduced to his wider family.  It’s time he met mine.’

‘I know Armie. How many people do you want there?’

‘I don’t know, 20?

‘That will barely cover your aunts, uncles and their children.  Who do you want there?’

Armie gave her ten names, none of them family, all of them prominent in the Rolling Hills Jewish Community and friends of the family.  Told his Mom she could invite anyone else she wanted.

‘This is turning into a big party. Leave it with me, it will have to be at your house, the condo will be too small. I’ll deal with it.  Are you sure you want to do this?’

‘Why wouldn’t I be sure?’

‘Well, it’s like you are making some kind of declaration.’

‘I’m not, I’m just formally introducing him to our family and friends.’

‘Armie, it is a declaration.’

 

‘Hello Darling, how are you?’

Esther hugged Armie, whispered in his ear. ‘I’m very happy to see you with my boy.  I know he loves you and I love you for that.’

Armie flushed fully pink.  Didn’t know what to do.  Lost for words, he merely hugged her back.  Timothée watched them both, knew what was happening, his mother was formally accepting him into their family.  She had a way of behaving with people she trusted, people that she knew were going to be good for her children.  She was the same with David.  He’d test his theory.

‘Come and tell me what you have been up, Timothée tells you are applying for jobs.’

She took him off, no-one else to get near him for a while.  She wasn’t just going to find out about the jobs, she was going to dig into him to find how he really was.  He was family, so she had to take care of him.

‘Go away Timothée, I am talking to Armie.’

‘I’m just getting his things, you’ve taken him off before we could get ourselves organised. And anyway I know the real reason you’ve taken him over here.  You’re just going to ask him the fuck about all of our business.  Don’t tell her anything Armie, she will just go and tell Papa, she has a big fucking mouth.’

‘Timothée if you talk to your Mother like that again in front of me, I swear to god...’ Armie softly voiced the words, he was growling, a private moment.

‘Pot and Kettle, Darling. Come here.’ He lowered his tone, his mother looked away. She knew what was coming.

‘I love when you’re rough with me.’ 

Caught onto Armie and kissed him full open mouth, tongue swirling, in front of everyone.  Armie opened his mouth and matched him.  Heads swivelled, away, they might as well have been fucking.

He had a pronounced bad boy habit when he came home, the behaviour could be ridiculous, once he’d been home for a few hours and checked in with his mother he settled into semi-normal behaviour.

Timothée put Armie down, figuratively speaking. 

‘Where’s Clare?  At least she will be nice to me.  She is the only one that understands me’

‘You mean can put up with you. Your father and I only tolerate you because you are our son and no one else can deal with you.

‘Armie fucking loves me. He cannot resist me or my…’  Walked off, smiling.

‘He’s a brat.’ Esther countered as they sat.

‘You spoilt him.’

‘No that is how he is, neither of them have been spoilt – we couldn’t afford it.’  She looked pointedly at Armie, he felt he had to say something.

‘Touché.  My family are wealthy but we were not spoilt either – the only way we got money as children was through chores.  When we were teenagers, we had to go and find work, not literally, chores for other people, or volunteering with community projects.  We couldn’t sit at home playing on an Xbox, and we didn’t have iPads or Youtube then.  Timothée has probably told you, both Viktor and I have made our own way, we don’t need our parents’ money.  We had a good life, good schools but we were not spoilt. Can I ask you something?

I don’t know what to do with that house…’

‘Let me stop you right there Armie.  My boy is living in that house, it’s his home – I know he has to spend a lot of time in Australia but he regards it as his home.  And he thinks of that house as your home too.  If you decide to leave or you don’t want to live there he’ll probably leave too.  Have a care, your constant harping on about the house is problematic and will drive a wedge between you and Tim, and he will leave, permanently. One day he will just say enough – you know him, he has done it already, don’t push him, you won’t get another chance.   And let me remind you, the house doesn’t belong to you.  It still belongs to your parents and they can do what they want with it.  You have made clear that you are not financially dependent on them, and you have told everyone that will listen that you don’t want it _and_ nor do you want the responsibility of owning it.

Let me tell you, as a parent you can never forget you have a child and no matter how old they get they are always your responsibility and you always feel like you have to take care of them, even if they don’t need it or refuse it.  And that is why they tried to give you that house, your brother is settled Armie. You aren’t, this is their way of making sure you have a base something that belongs to you, you will always have a home - one that you can make for yourself, the other with them. They will always open their arms to you Armie, you will always have a home with them, with Tim or with us.  Do you understand that?  If you can’t come to terms with that, you will never be happy.’

‘I am settled, I’m with Tim. It’s just that I don’t have a home that is mine…I don’t want the house…I just want to live with Tim, somewhere where…

‘I am not going to discuss it anymore. I have already told you, it’s Tim’s home and it’s yours too if want it.  If you don’t want it, move out and find somewhere else to live. Tim will be sad but he will manage, what I can’t guarantee is that he will come with you or for you.  To be honest I don’t think you have a choice, if you want Tim, you will get the house – what has he said to you?’

‘deal with it or fuck off.’

‘So why are you asking me?’

In his head, Armie just heard, ‘that fucking house.’  It was like a constant murmur, drilling into him, eating into his comfort _no_ his regard for Timothée. Meanwhile, Timothée was watching from a corner, he could tell that something had upset him.  He went over.

‘What’s the matter baby?’ 

His mother left them together.

‘Deal with it or fuck off.’

‘The house?’

Timothée gazed at his lover, took in his whole ambience, and took a big breath.  He had been waiting to say this. 

‘Let’s just leave the house Armie, you find it too upsetting and you won’t admit that you want it really.  Let’s start again in our own home, just you and me in a small house, something that fits us, somewhere that likes us both. Would your mother and father sell it to fund a place for us?’

Armie started crying or at least a tear ran down his face. Timothée wiped it away.  Sat beside him, and kissed him softly. The room turned shy and left them to come to terms.

‘Sorry...  I want you Tim, I just have a dead end about that house.  It’s like an emblem and I can’t work out what it means. A puzzle, something I can’t decipher, when I am very clear about you and what you mean to me.  The house seemed to become the definition of us.  I love you…I love you, I know what that means. When I see you I see my mirror, you want the same as me but you are not  me and that is exactly how it should be.  I want to be in the same place as you and I want to build a home with you, our home, not something that is put on us that we have to adapt to or try to fit into.  It’s like being told what to do or how to live. That’s what it feels like.  Sorry.  We have our own life and ways to live that life, ways that we can work out for ourselves.  We don’t need the house to give out a signal about us or our relationship.  We are complete in ourselves.  The rest is just frippery and somebody’s else goal.’

‘That is the first time you have articulated a clear answer for me.  I don’t care where we live, I love that house, but I know I can live in another one with you.  That is the difference between us, you think we have to live there, I know we don’t.  Your parents were just taking care of you in the way they think best, they were providing security.  They care for you…they want to see you…us, settled and they thought if they provided a home their job is mostly done, they could go onto their second life without children and instead they found themselves with a child who had left home, moved back and regressed.  Where are you now? Ready to move on if we leave the house?’

Armie nodded.

‘Ready for a second drink Armie?’

His mother had a knack, she knew when to intervene and when to step away, as she took Armie with her Timothée took her arm and pulled her in to kiss her cheek.

‘I love you Mama.’

That was it, house business settled.  The house was put up for sale, and the monies to be put into a trust, with a view to buying another house for both Armie and Timothée to live in.  Everyone was happy.


	22. Twenty-Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Domestics.
> 
> This is fiction. I do not know them, and as far as I know Armie cannot fly a plane.

‘Have you sent those papers yet Armie?’

‘What papers?’

‘The fucking divorce papers. What papers…You promised to send them last week.  What are you waiting for?’

‘What’s the problem?

Timothée turned on his heels, spat out after him.

‘Don’t try my patience.’

‘What’s the matter baby, they make no difference to how we are.  Are you unhappy?  You were very happy last night and this morning.’ He made a very rude sound with his mouth.

Timothée kept his mouth shut.  He got his jacket and phone, and went out for a walk.  If he stayed he was liable to say something unforgiveable.  He walked down to their favourite coffee shop, sometimes he had to get away from Armie, he loved him very much but they were very different in certain aspects.  Armie had a fuck it, it doesn’t matter attitude about the divorce, yet he was the very antithesis about the house, about which he was fuck it and fuck you.  Timothée decided to make him think twice.

He got down to the coffee shop, and started talking to the barista.  The barista was a very attractive dark haired boy aged 23 who was a post grad studying PPE and aiming for a government post.  He got talking to Timmy about the hospitality industry and Timmy was mining him for information. Alex had worked in a bar and led a waiters’ team for a catering agency specialising in weddings, and family oriented events at large hotels around the Bondi Beach coastal area.  He knew how to deal with people and he had a number of years’ experience.  He was good with people, intelligent and destined for a great career.  He came from a very good family who were already associated with political figures, but was hiding away in Balmain. He attended Sydney University, he could have gone to Melbourne which was more prestigious but felt he needed to be near more ‘real’ people. Timmy thought he would go down to the coffee shop because he knew that Alex was just about to take a break – it was 11.00am on Friday, he might take him to Riverview Hotel just to get him out of the coffee shop and their normal environment.  Armie was due to fly out the next day, it so happened that Timmy had the whole weekend off.  He was flying out Tuesday, Armie wasn’t back until Wednesday. He was going to teach that fucker.  Truth was Timothée thought he would have a little adventure, he had no intention of sleeping with Alex, but some mild flirtation would be fun, and Armie wasn’t going to be around so a perfect opportunity. In the back of his head a different story was emerging, it wasn’t fully formed

They had returned to Balmain, actually back to the same apartment block but a different apartment, one which was slightly larger, it was a corner apartment, the rooms were bigger as was the balcony.  It was also more private, they were tucked into a corner, they didn’t hear their neighbours and saw less of them.  They were spending more time in Australia due to the divorce – that’s what Armie said, the more time they spent there the more convincing the separation.  Timothée missed America more than Armie, he missed his family and familiar home comforts.  They didn’t rent or try to buy anything in LA, they AirBnB’d or stayed at Armie’s parent’s condo if they were away or if they hadn’t seen them in a while.  Timothée had his per diem payments so he saved them, if he was by himself staying with his parents even if it was a four hour drive. Timothée didn’t want to impose on anyone, and he wanted his privacy, Armie had slipped into some kind of time warp, the house problem resolved he sat back and relaxed he had everything he wanted, Timothée, no major responsibilities and he could either stay with his parents or in a cheap place for the few days a month he now spent in LA.  He was happy, Timothée wasn’t.  Timothée had given up his home for what seemed to him to be a peripatetic life, it wasn’t what he was aiming for.  He knew where he was going and it wasn’t living out of suitcases all the time.

Anyway, he got his coffee in a paper cup and waited for Alex to join him.  He knew that at some point Armie would follow him down.

Alex joined him and said he only had 20 mins, so they did not leave but tentatively agreed to have brunch on Sunday. Alex was friendly, he had a girlfriend and whilst both saw potential in each other for some kind of non-platonic friendship, they also knew that they each had somebody that they had no wish to cheat on.  Still, a little fun did no one any harm, did it?  And Alex’s girlfriend was easy going and understood that he might have some other sexual need that she could not meet, she wouldn’t mind the odd indiscretion so long as it did not involve actual fucking.

Armie turned up and found them cosy in a corner by the window, he could not lie he found it sexually arousing, his boyfriend and that young man who was raven haired and chocolate eyed with soft Mediterranean colouring, he looked like he came from sun drenched Provence, a sultry demeanour, warm and inviting, and he was right, he and Timmy were talking in French.  He looked gorgeous.  Armie’s vivid imagination could see them in bed together.  Timothée apparently did not see the wink that Alex bestowed on Armie, he was sitting the wrong side and had not looked up – distracted with the sudden anger he felt having seen him come into the shop, he was working out what to say. Armie’s dick stood to attention, too much stimulus his boyfriend and this come on. The younger man noticed and his eyes went from face to dick, he licked his lips.  So much happening in so little time.  Now there was a situation where one person wanted a decision, one person wanted to fuck, and the last person was flirting.

Armie dragged Timothée out of the coffee shop.

‘Come now, I want you.’

Timothée shrugged him off.

‘What! You come down here, don’t even stay ten minutes and want to bang.  Fuck Off! Get Lost!’

He walked off. Armie followed quickly, now he realising he had misunderstood what was going on.

‘Hey, come on. Timothée, hey baby come here.’

He didn’t care who heard him.

‘I wasn’t going to fuck him.  I want to fuck you.’

‘Shut up, you’re a fucking embarrassment.’

‘Come on baby, you know I only want you.’

‘Your dick is sticking straight out.  It isn’t for me.’

By now Timothée was shouting, they were gathering attention.  Mothers were drawing their children close, older couples were throwing looks which showed how they felt at this disgraceful behaviour. 

‘Timothée! Timothée!’

 ‘Shut up!’

‘Oh Come On.  That boy is beautiful.  What were you doing with him?’

Timothée stopped.  Armie knew he had him.

They stood close and argued softly.

‘What do you mean? What am I doing with him.’

‘You’re not answering me.  What are you doing with him?’

‘Nothing.’

‘ _Nothing_ …liar.’

‘Don’t call me a liar.  You come into the shop spent one minute and ping! It’s obvious you want him.  You didn’t even look at me.  I saw him wink at you and you reciprocated.’

‘I did not reciprocate.  Who the fuck even says that? Look there’s two gorgeous young men and both of them are talking French, engrossed and one of them pays a bit of attention, a bit of flirting.  Nothing else.  And I am supposed to pretend that I am not interested. Or aroused.  Fuck That.  The day I can’t react to an attractive man is the day we’re done.’

The words were out of his mouth before he knew what he said.  Timothée gave him a hard look before going on.

‘…Are you trying to say that I am possessive and prevent you from going out and enjoying yourself?  That is blatantly not true.  When I have ever said anything to you about who you spend time with?  Or who you talk to when we go out?   What about that time at the party, that man had his fucking hands on your ass and you were just standing there.  Did I say anything?’

‘That is because he squeezed my ass as a joke, a fucking joke, it was part of the story – he wasn’t interested in me.  He knew you were with me.  It was just a bit of fun.’

‘OK. What about the time we were in the club and that man kissed you with his tongue and you just stood there and took it.’

‘That was nice, he knew what he was doing.  And I was drunk.’

A sharp intake of breath, this was Armie all fucking over.  Timothée wouldn’t respond to that.  He took another tack.

‘…So. You won’t mind if I fuck other people?  Currently, you don’t even like me talking to other people when we go out.’

‘Because you spend too much time talking and gossiping, you don’t spend enough time with me. I want to show you off.  You’re my man, I don’t want to share you.  I keep telling you, you are mine. I want you emotionally and physically, you fucking kill me, I want your body all the time.  You’re like fucking human catnip to me.  Try fucking someone else and see what happens.’

‘What are you going to do?  There’s nothing you can do if I choose to give my ass to someone else.  You’ll just have to take it. Or leave it.’

Timothée finished the discussion by walking off again.  Back to the coffee shop, purposely re-joined Alex in the same corner of the window, so Armie could see what was happening.  Took the boy’s hand into his and stroked it with his other hand.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Giving my boyfriend a piece of my mind. Play along. It’s time the shit realised what he has.’

‘I already winked at him. He is something else, I would tap that.’

‘I saw you, you fucker.  He’s mine, don’t even consider it.’

 

Armie waited outside.  He was uncertain now.  Timothée was back in there with that boy, the boy who had winked at him and was now flirting with his boyfriend.  Not outrageous flirting, but touching his hand, drinking from his cup, eating biscuits he taken from behind the counter. Biscuits he shared with Timothée.  He watched as Alex returned to work, he’d taken an early short lunch and spent longer with Timothée than intended.  Alex didn’t mind playing along at all.

‘Is he still watching?’

‘Yeah.’

‘I am going to leave. Come round the counter. Kiss me on the cheek, wrap your arm round my neck.’

The door of the coffee shop opened.  Armie stood there pink with fury.

‘Get the fuck out here.’

‘Are you talking to me?’

‘Please don’t make a scene, you’ll get me into trouble, please Tim.’

‘Oh it’s Tim, is it?  You, get your motherfucking ass out here.’

‘Don’t talk to me like that.  I can fuck who I like.’

There was a sudden rush and Timothée found himself out in the front of the shop.

‘I’ve left some things in there.  I am just going to get them.’ 

Said in a voice which carried, the whole coffee shop was agog.  They wanted to see how this went.

Pulled his arm out of Armie’s grasp and returned to the shop.

Whispered.

\- ‘Thank you.’

Loud.

\- ‘Don’t come back in, you shit.’

In a low friendly voice.

\- ‘See you on Sunday.’

A Response

\- ‘OK.  Later.’

A wink.

 

‘He’s helping me.

‘He’s helping himself to your ass. He winked at me…’

‘Did he? He’s a bad boy.’

Timothée gave a small smile.

‘Have you sorted the divorce papers out yet?’

Silence.

‘Just so you know, I am meeting Alex for brunch on Sunday.’

‘No you aren’t.’

‘Sorry.’

‘Nothing to be sorry about, you aren’t meeting him.’

‘I am…You’re not getting it, I can meet who I like, I am not tied to you.  You are still married, we are just dating.’

By now Armie’s head was hurting and he was feeling stressed.  He knew what Timothée was doing and he found it very painful.

‘And if I feel like fucking him, I will.’

Armie choked up with anger and hurt.

‘So you didn’t mean it?’

‘Mean what?’

‘That we were exclusive and that we weren’t sharing ourselves or our bodies.’

‘I did mean it, and I thought you cared enough about me to sort out your end of the bargain.’

‘Bargain?’

‘Yes, we have a deal.  The deal was that you are going to set everything straight.  I conceded on the house, you said you would get the divorce sorted. What do you think is fair?  If you don’t do what you say you are going to do. I can do what I want. Then we are both doing the same.  And I am choosing to spend time with Alex. I like him. 

Did I tell you he is bi?  He has a girlfriend but he likes to fuck men occasionally…he likes both.  And it’s a long time since he fucked a man.  I might oblige.  You’re not fulfilling your end of the bargain, I can take time off my part.

What do you want to do for dinner?  We could stay out and go see a film, then dinner, what do you think?  Don’t look like that, it’s no big deal.  I am not going to leave you, and I don’t want you to leave me.  We are still learning how to negotiate our relationship, aren’t we?  We need to agree how we are going to do this.  I’ll be as open with you, as I’d hope you are with me.  That’s fair, eh?  So I am not going to lie about Alex.’

‘Don’t sleep with him Timothée.’

‘I never said I would definitely…I am thinking about it.  I take seriously what I agree and what I said: I wouldn’t sleep with anyone else, we told each other that twice already, do you remember? But tell me why I shouldn’t sleep with him when you won’t divorce your wife?’

Armie was nonplussed. He tried to make logic of what Timothée had said.

‘I don’t see why one should depend on the other.’

‘They aren’t. You can do exactly what you want Armie.’

Now Armie knew he had fallen into a trap.

‘They can be separate but in our deal they are not separate.  Because if I cannot trust you in one aspect of our relationship and what we have agreed, why should I trust you in another?  And if I don’t trust you why should I be beholden to you or keep faith with you?  I will do what I want, we are not bound.’

 

Timothée went out and didn’t come back that night.  Armie left for his trip to LA the next morning, and he left with a troubled mind.  He didn’t mind him not coming back, he knew that Timothée was testing him, it was childish, well he minded but he understood and he knew that he would not take that ultimate step.  He was troubled because yet again he had failed to realise what was important to Timothée.   This was problematic, a habit, worsened because he did not take to being reminded about the instances.

It was a failing.  He was a person of strong feeling and desire.  He knew what love was, but he failed to action it fully.  A fault actioned as procrastination, an unwillingness to take action for fear of commitment.  What the fuck was he doing?

Timothée understood him. He wasn’t going to sleep with anyone else.  What he understood was this, Armie was his person and he was not all good and not all bad, but he would not put up and shut up. He gave Armie his freedom, he didn’t nag him, he tried speaking with him about sending in the papers, he let it go and came back to it. He’d tried explaining how he felt about it. None of those tactics had worked, so he had to in a manner of speaking threaten him, if that didn’t work he was fucked, because all that he would be left with after that was ignoring the behaviour, and that would not work for him.  Armie had to change.  Well, actually not change because he liked the fact that Armie gave no fucks and would not be hurried into anything nor could he be persuaded to do anything that he did not think was necessary or urgent.  He got away with the behaviour because quite simply he was Armie and people liked him. They might not want to live with him but they liked him and tolerated his borderline behaviour because he was amusing, helpful and kind.  Kindness went a long way.  He remembered Armie’s generous offer to fund his studies.  That was what had brought him Alex.  But then the thought. What the fuck was he doing?

His phone buzzed.  Armie would have arrived at his parent’s condo, LA was some hours behind Sydney nearly a whole day, it was gone 3.00am their time on Saturday, nearly 10.00pm on Saturday in Sydney.  The day he gained would be lost on his return.

‘What ya doing baby?’

‘Netflix & chill, I didn’t go too far today, just a walk and a cup of coffee.  And Alex wasn’t working today so I haven’t seen him, so don’t start.’

‘…Tim…I’m going to post those papers when I get home…it just fell off my list of urgent things.  I’m sorry…I meant to do it and we kind of got into a good rhythm, so I put it to one side and kept meaning to sort…’

‘It’s OK Armie. I shouldn’t have tried to force you into doing it.  I’m glad you are going to do it but you shouldn’t do it for me.  Do it because you want to.’

‘But I do want to do it for you.  Not because you asked but because it reflects where we are going in our relationship, a new start a proper start to our relationship, and if I’m honest it wasn’t as important to me because of what we already have, which I treasure and thought was all I needed.  I thought I had you and you were happy but you made me realise I didn’t own you and that you could go anytime you wanted and I thought about what I wanted and how it should play out and came to the conclusion that this is the same conversation we had about the house.  And I don’t know why I do it…’

Armie laughed…insight was playing with him, Timothée could hear something rueful.  He spoke.

‘What’s funny? I can tell you don’t really find this amusing.’

‘My father came to mind: he always tells me I am idiot for not appreciating you in a way that shows you how much you mean to me.  He is fond of saying: “The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results”  It’s by Einstein.’

‘I know…what else does your father have to say.’

‘Well his exact words were: ‘You’re a fucking asshole’. He got wild with me.  I started to talk to Belle about us and he just burst into our conversation, couldn’t contain himself.  Told me I only wanted my way and had no consideration for your feelings, and that I had a lot of work to do if I wanted you to stay long-term…You don’t want to leave me do you…?’

‘ha..ha..ha..ha..he’s right..you’re a dick.  No, I don’t want to leave you. But there are times when I could happily strangle you.  I mean, how long shall we be living out of suitcases Armie?’

He hadn’t given this any thought either.  Shit, there were some things that needed to be discussed.

‘Look, I’ve some things I need to think through Timothée…Can I ask you one thing…please don’t see Alex tomorrow…’

‘No, I can’t promise that.  I like him, he’s my friend and he’s helping me by giving me some inside info. on working in hospitality.  So no I won’t promise that, you have to trust me.  I won’t fuck him.  I told you I was meeting him, and I promise that I will never keep anything from you, in the way of friends or people that I meet.  Anyway, if I wanted to fuck him, I wouldn’t tell you.  And, you’d have been none the wiser…’

‘I’d have known, I know that ass.’

‘I would have topped, you wouldn’t have known.’

‘Oh, so now you are dominant.’

‘I’m versatile…Armie, you like it when we swap…You fucking love it.’

‘ _I’m_ dominant, that ass is mine.’

Timothée laughed.

‘Are we back on good terms baby?’

‘Only if you show me when you get back that you have taken me seriously and you sort out the papers, and give me some respect.’

‘Respect, what respect do you want me to show you?’

‘Wait until you come home, I’ll tell you then.’

‘So, I’m coming _home_ now, what happened to suitcases?’

‘Fuck off.  We have to discuss the suitcase situation too…I want to go to sleep now.  You make me tired, you’re very wearing, so intense.’

‘Wanna facetime?’

‘What for?’

‘Switch it on and I’ll show you..’

‘OK… wait…what have you got on?’

‘Switch over, and you’ll see.’

‘Are your parents there?’

‘Yes.’

‘Dirty fucker.  What are you wearing?’

‘Not much…switch over, I’m already hard…I want to see your dick…switch over…they’re sleeping…they won’t hear…switch over.’

‘OK, baby just give me a moment, gonna get ready...’


	23. Twenty-Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Making plans, looking to the future. They take a break, and discuss what's next.
> 
> This is fiction. I do not know them and as far as I know Armie has never flown a plane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double posting - Enjoy!

‘Take six months off’

‘I can’t afford it.’

 

The divorce had gone through, easily. Chelsea had been very helpful and sent through all of her papers as soon as Armie made his plan clear. She was helpful and supported Armie through the process. They went for no-fault irretrievable breakdown and waited out the next six months to complete the overall twelve months plus one day separation needed before the divorce could be processed.

Armie was surprised at the relief this gave him.  He thought it wouldn’t make a difference but found that actually he felt more committed to Timothée and he told him, receiving a beatific smile in return.  Later that day, he came home to a candlelight dinner with a promise of something better when the divorce was finalised.

It was worth it.  The relationship grew deeper in a way that Armie could not explain, he apologised again to Timothée and confessed that he had not fully understood before, now he had had his eyes opened, he began to understand what his father meant: life is a series of small events, some happy some sad which taken together represented the love and effort needed to create a successful relationship.  Something which was tangible and spiritual. Armie began to feel how much he would miss Timothée, in a word he became scared of what he might lose and didn’t realise this was normal.  He wanted to over-compensate and started paying attention.

They were sitting in Sydney, not long before the divorce was complete, talking softly about the future.  Armie was sitting at one end of the sofa, Timothée the other, Timothée’s feet were in his hands. Armie was stroking the balls of his feet and running his fingers from heel to toe.

‘hmmm…that’s nice darling.’

‘I like to do this, is it weird?  I kind of get off on your feet, soft and hard skin and they have your smell, sometimes I want to lick them.’

‘That’s pervy, you creep.’

‘You won’t say it’s creepy when I try it out.  Imagine my mouth on your feet.  Or, on the inside of your thigh.  Or down from your thigh to your ankle, and then I suck your toes.  How does that sound?’

Timothée took his foot out of Armie’s hand.  His dick was beginning to harden with Armie’s words and voice.

‘Keep telling me what you want to do.  That’s hot.’

Armie undid Timothée’s trousers.

‘Just giving you some room.’

Except he put his hand in Timothée’s trousers and started rubbing.

‘OK…stop…oh fuck…’

Armie took him at his word and picked up one foot.

‘Scoot down.’

He pulled one leg into his hands and started brushing the insole with his thumb, he licked and sucked the thumb and kept his eye on Timothée who was watching closely, swallowing and breathing shallow.

Armie pulled off Timothée’s trousers, he left the boxers on undid them and pressed his hand over Timothée’s dick, felt it and pulled it out, he pulled Timothée down and around, pulled his legs apart, pushing one behind him so he could bend and take him in his mouth easily, gave the dick a good long suck.  Timothée groaned and opened his legs further. Armie rose up and pulled the other leg towards him, stroked against the hairs, began to lick the inside of his leg, sucked a bruise on the soft flesh of his thigh, licked all the way down along the lines of muscles, spreading his mouth around the soft pads of Timothée’s leg until he reached his foot, puckered his mouth around the ankle using his tongue to taste and suckle, feeling for veins across the seam of sole and skin, stretched down and pressed his tongue against the insole, licked and flicked it and swiped his tongue towards the toes, pulled Timothée’s big toe into his mouth sucked on it like he had the dick.  Timothée closed his eyes and placed his hand on his dick and started to stroke it.

‘Keep going.’

 

‘What do you mean you can’t afford it?’

‘Armie, I earn less than half of what you earn.’

A rude sound was heard.

‘I already told you, you don’t need to worry about the cost.  Where do you want to go?’

Silence

‘Why are you sulking?’

‘I am not sulking.’

‘The fuck, why the silent treatment then?’

More silence.

In truth Timmy was feeling uncomfortable. And didn’t know how to express it. What he really wanted to do was give up being cabin crew.  He knew he would have to give it up eventually, most people worked crew until their thirties and then found a ‘proper’ job.  There were people who joined and was even older but they tended to be on second careers or looking a one last challenge before retiring.  He was twenty-eight, he didn’t know what he wanted he didn’t want this – to continue with cabin crew, but he did want Armie, in fact he fucking wanted Armie above everything else. He’d got fed up of the flying and having to beg to be on the same schedule as Armie, and then finding that even if they were on the same pattern, the days never matched, and he was away more than Armie because he got fewer days on layover. He couldn’t do without him. He wanted to spend more time with him. He sat there looking at him.  Got up and sat in his lap.

‘I love you.’

‘What’s with the silent treatment.’

‘You make me mad.’

‘What did I do.’

‘Nothing...Can I be your wife?’

‘LOL.  That isn’t possible. Do you want to get married? You can be my husband, if you want.’

Timothée got up and went and sat in the sitting room.

Armie wondered what he had done, he followed him through.

‘Fucker.’

‘What have I done now?’

‘You’re not even divorced.’

Armie was beginning to find this amusing.  Timothée was just being contrary.  He liked it.  He liked when Timothée was difficult.  It made everything worthwhile, just what he was looking for, he was kept on his toes.  He didn’t know which Timothée he was coming home to.  Only this week, he had had a proper cooked dinner, a massage after a pilot team game of basketball, the apartment vacuumed and tidied.  The bed had been changed, and the bathroom thoroughly cleaned.  And once after going out to run some errands he had come home to tetchy Timothée, monosyllabic, touchy and told to make his own dinner.  On that occasion he had kept to his diet and chosen to eat sparingly. That night Timothée kept him up practically all night fucking, he wore Armie out.  It was worth it.  It was his way of saying sorry.

‘I can’t stay up all night fucking.  Very soon I’m going to have to start taking Viagra.  I can’t keep up, I need my sleep.’

‘I don’t want to fuck you, I hate you.’

Now Armie outright laughed.

‘You’ll want to fuck me and I’ll let you tonight, you can do the work.  Come on, what’s wrong?’

‘I don’t want to talk about it.’

‘OK.’

Armie left it.  He’d tell him when he was ready.  He got up and did the dishes, they went to bed, and slept.

 

It was a week later, they were in LA and they had both booked a week off, in effect they had nearly two weeks off.  Armie decided they should go away.

‘We’re going to Cancun.’

‘Really, when did we discuss this?’

‘Be quiet.  I am going and I want to take you because I want to spend some detailed time with you.   I want to not have to think about schedules or errands or whether we should be visiting your parents or my parents.  This is about our time.  And, you need to tell me what is going on with you.  You aren’t speaking to me properly, we are just skirting whatever issue you have, we need to be out of our normal routine.  So will you trust me and let us have this time together and get ourselves straight?’

‘OK.’

Armie took this at face value.

‘We are going to stay at the Nizuc Resort.’

Timothée thought of giving Armie the silent treatment for wasting money. And thought better.

‘Thank you baby.’  And left it at that.

They arrived there on Saturday having flown into LA on Friday they decided to stay at a hotel near the airport rather than at Belle and Michael’s condo.  Armie decided he was going to play devoted husband and was determined he would deal with whichever version of Timothée was presented to him, as required and certainly not as someone who was trying to wind him up.  In fact he was going to treat Timothée with loving kindness. He deserved it, and it would mean that he would hopefully feel secure enough to discuss whatever was on his mind.

‘Why are you being so nice.  It isn’t going to gain you anything.  You already know everything there is to know about me.  You can’t get any more out of me.’

‘Darling, I love you and I love any version of you.  You can fuck around with me if you wish, but you will enjoy this holiday more if you can find it within yourself to tell me what is going on with you.  I am not going to press you.  You can tell me in your own time.  But really, if you get it off your mind then you will be happier.’

Timothée gave him a look.

‘Let’s go for a swim baby.’  Armie had opened his case and started looking for his swimming trunks.

‘You didn’t bring those shit brown things.’

‘Yes I did. They fit and they are comfortable.’  Armie was mildly indignant.

‘You are not wearing those, there’s a shop, let’s go there now.  I’ll buy you some.’  Timothée turned and went towards the door.

‘Well are you coming?’

 

‘I am not wearing those. They’re indecent.’

‘Yeah, I know. That is why you should get them.  Let me buy them for you.’

Timothée had picked up a pair of red speedo briefs, he wanted them not for swimming but because he could imagine Armie’s dick rising above the waist band which sat just below the normal point of the waist.  He could imagine his mouth on that dick.  He turned his eyes upward and stood close to Armie who couldn’t help his hand sliding down Timothée’s back and gripping his ass, he began to pull him onto his hip ready for discreet grinding…he could feel Timmy’s cock begin to harden.  They thought no one could see but there was a lot of glass in the shop, the shop assistant came over quickly and got their attention.

‘Would you like to try those on?’

‘Yeah, where’s the changing room?’ Timmy answered on Armie’s behalf.  Armie knew what he was thinking.  ‘I’ll come with you.’

The shop assistant looked at them both.

‘Shall I come with you, in case you need a different size?’

‘No, we’ll call for you if we need you.’

‘We don’t allow two people in the cubicle.’

‘I’ll wait outside.’

‘Timothée…’

Timothée whispered. ‘What? I wanna fuck you when I look at those…I can see you in them…Come on’

Someone else came in the shop followed by a couple, it was busy, late morning, people were coming in to replace forgotten things or to make a holiday purchase.  The shop assistant was in a dilemma.

Timothée pushed Armie towards a cubicle, there were two both had doors with wide gaps top and bottom.  Both were empty.

‘Get in...’

Pushed Armie in and immediately sat cross legged on the bench seating. He couldn’t be seen, but they could both be heard. Tore open Armie’s shorts, pushed everything to floor and got to work.  Armie’s back was to the door, he spread his arms and touched either side of cubicle. He was biting his lip trying to stay quiet, couldn’t help the odd gasp or sound rising from his throat.  Timothée spat on his dick, and made slurping sounds as he wrapped his lips around Armie’s throbbing cock. Armie spread his legs and relaxed, when the sensation became too much he prepared himself for release by gradually tensing and relaxing his lower muscles.  The thrill and fear put him on a pleasurable edge, he was beginning to feel like he wanted to come, and started thrusting into Timothée’s mouth.  Timothée continued to suck him loosely and then used his hand, he was just about to come when Timothée put his mouth back on him to catch his cum, swallowed and licked the cock clean, and opened his own shorts, stood on the floor to kiss Armie, released his hard dick into his own hand, then Armie took over vigorously stroking the dick.  They carried on kissing and Armie carried on pumping until he came all over Armie’s t-shirt.  Armie was beyond caring.  Luckily the speedos had a matching t-shirt, Timothée bought and paid for both, calling the shop assistant to bring items of clothing to the cubicle – another pair of the red speedos in a different briefer cut (for maximum impact), a decent pair of green shorts that Armie had picked up and the t-shirt.  The shop assistant was not happy, the room was clear and clean but the smell was unmistakable and some noise had carried into the shop.  Armie and Timmy left nonchalantly thanking the shop assistant for his help, Timmy was hanging off Armie’s arm.

‘You owe me one’

‘Why can’t you behave yourself?’

Timothée just smiled at him.

‘You may love any version of me, I want to fuck any version of you.’

 

They went back to the room, showered and decided to stay in the bedroom, not much got done that day as Timothée insisted on seeing Armie in, and ruining both pairs of speedos.

 

‘We wasted a day yesterday, let’s go to the beach.’

Armie was determined to leave the room.  Timothée had been wild the day before and insatiable, they had room service and did not leave the bedroom.  He wanted to rest.

‘Are you tired, old man?’

‘’You son of bitch.  We came for a holiday not to fuck all week.’

Timothée laid himself out on the bed, and was about to start again.

‘Get up, what is wrong with you.’

‘Don’t know. Come back to bed. We can nap.’

‘We can nap on the beach.’

‘Yeah but I want to nap without any clothes. Look.’  He had his dick in his hand, it was beginning to swell.  If you suck me just this once, I’ll come to the beach.’

‘Yeah, but if I blow you, then you’ll blow me and then it will be lunchtime and the day’s gone, get up.’  He threw the bathrobe on him and left the room to shower.  Timothée got up and put on his swimming gear, he was going out without a wash.  One way or another he was going to cause Armie to blow him before evening came.  He went into the bathroom, brushed his teeth and washed his face.  Did not brush or comb his hair and stood alongside to made sure that Armie could smell him as he dried after his shower.  Armie’s dick was not immune to Timothée’s smell, Timothée smelt of himself and sex.

‘Change those shorts I can see everything.’  What he meant was other people will see your dick and it belongs to me.

Timothée smiled and said nothing.  In fact he rubbed himself, made the dick more prominent. He went into the bedroom and put on some long shorts and a t-shirt.

‘Have you got a bag? Can you take my Kindle, phone, and earphones please Armie?’

Armie glimpsed the now semi hard dick and thought better of saying anything, this was just provocation.

He took Timothée’s things and started gathering the same items for himself plus the room swipe card, he thought twice about bringing money but decided to take fifty dollars with him just in case.  ‘Oh…sunscreen…where are my sunglasses?’  Timothée already had his sunglasses on.  Finally ready, they went down and had breakfast before going down to the private beach.

‘Don’t start anything.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘You know what I fucking mean.  Don’t start any sexy business.’

‘Sexy business…ha…ha…ha…you are totally gonna blow me before we go back.’

‘No I’m not, not in public.’

‘ha…ha…ha…you are.’

‘How old are you?’

‘Twenty eight and horny.  My boyfriend is gorgeous and he turns me on.  I want to fuck him’

‘For fuck’s sake.’

 

They got down to beach, there were some loungers just outside the resort area.

‘Let’s walk down, there’s some more down there.’

They kept walking.

‘This is the last of them, Timothée, let’s go back there were two together just up here.’

‘Hang on, let’s just go down there, there are a few more over that rough area of the beach.’

Timothée strode off, Armie trailed him muttering in exasperation, there were two loungers with windbreaks on a pier, he could see two people, two men walking back from the pier, Timothée had engaged them in conversation, he raised his arm and beckoned him, the men carried on walking and paused when they reached Armie, and said hello.

‘Is that your boyfriend?’

‘Yes, what has he done now?’

‘Nothing, he was just asking if we were returning.  We are going for lunch and a nap, We’re early risers.  We won’t be back.  It’s nice and secluded, you can be quite private there.’  There was a look.  Armie blushed.

‘Perhaps we can meet for a drink later, my name’s Brett and this is my husband Pierce, we are on our honeymoon…Let me tell you something, you could do much worse, you know, he’s nice.  If you’re more than half way certain, make him yours.’

‘Brett’s a romantic.’  Pierce might have been a little older than Brett, he was around forty. ‘But he is not often wrong.  We are in room 602, give us a call when you get back, it would be nice to chat with some like minded men.’

‘Nice to meet you, I’m Armie and that was Timothée.’

‘We know, he called you his lover and future husband, but told us not to tell you he had said so…he had a glint in his eye…’

The blush deepened.

‘He just wants you Armie, nothing wrong with that.  See you later.’

As he approached the loungers and windbreak at the end of the pier, he was followed down by a beach attendant from the hotel.

‘What can I get you gentlemen?  Would you like a drink, a sandwich or some fruit?’

Timothée had got himself laid out, and was smoothing on some additional sunscreen, his skin was already a soft pink, he wouldn’t be able to stay out in the glare of the sun for too long.  Armie was lucky he caught the sun easily and took a tan well.  Timothée was fair of skin and dark of hair, he had to watch the sun or risk being burnt.  He asked for the shade to be adjusted so he could be completely under it.

‘Can you bring a few beers, some bottles of water and some fruit in a cooler, and some chips and nuts please and we don’t want to be disturbed.’  Timothée had suddenly turned very authoritative. Armie became compliant and kept quiet. ‘Can you also bring us another set of towels please, we want to go into the water later.  Do you want anything else baby?’  Armie shook his head. ‘Thanks.’  Fifteen minutes later, the attendant returned with their towels, food, drink, and a buzzer. 

‘If you need anything else sir, just press this and someone will come.  Do you need anything else?  No?  Well, have a nice day, and do just buzz if you discover you want something. We are very discreet here Sir, it is very private, you don’t need to be worried about being disturbed. We monitor visitors. Good Morning Sir.’  A look, and he left.

Timothée got a bottle of water alongside him. Took out his Kindle, took off his shorts and swimming trunks, now fully nude, he adjusted his glasses and arranged himself so that he could read easily. Behind his sunglasses he glanced over to see if Armie was looking. His dick was soft, pink, delicate as rose.

‘You better put some sunscreen on that, or it will burn.’

‘Why don’t you put it on for me?’

He submitted to the request.  Timothée put the Kindle down and enjoyed the process laying spread out legs akimbo on the edges of the sunbed.

‘The balls as well, and my ass.’  Armie started to grow hard.  Timothée was seemingly unaffected.  He had to adjust himself.  Timothée drew his legs together, got his Kindle and started reading.  Twenty minutes later he was asleep, thirty minutes later the sun had moved round and the shade needed to be adjusted. Armie got up.

‘Where are you going?’

‘Nowhere, just adjusting the shade.’

‘Come and lay here with me.’

‘It’s too hot.’

‘Please.’

Armie resigned himself, he was going to be Timothée’s person today.

‘If it gets too hot, I’m moving back to the other sunbed.’

‘I don’t mind getting hot, you can shelter me…hmm…bring your leg across…I want to feel you…hmm…nice.’  He went off to sleep again.  Armie set the timer to go off in an hour, he didn’t want Timothée to burn, wrapped his body around his sleeping form, gave up and also fell asleep.

The timer went off, they got up and went for a swim came back to the lounging area and had something to eat and drink, lay on their respective recliners and started reading.  The heat of the day was passing, the afternoon blew in some cooling breezes, overhead the Sun began to fall down the sky onto the horizon and the temperature drew closer to that of the body, everything was perfect.  Armie checked the time, after three o’clock, neither of them had looked at their phones, he still had a good amount of battery.  They had been out of wifi range so couldn’t look anything up or check their social media in any case.

‘Shall we go back? How do you feel baby?  Is your skin sore?’

Timothée smiled dreamily at him.

‘I’m fine darling, it’s beginning to cool off, let’s go back in a half an hour.  We can have a nap before we go out for dinner.  Come here.’

He lay on his back, stretched out his arms to welcome Armie.

‘Get on top of me.’  Armie came over and lay at his side. ‘Get on me. Kiss me.’  So Armie did, using an elbow to support his weight.  They lay there making out, drawing out kisses, and soon hands were feeling and pressing skin, legs were entwined, Timothée’s hand searched for and cupped Armie’s ass, and began squeezing his firm flesh; Armie moved down to fit so their dicks could rub against each other.  Timothée moved his hand to his waist stroking the dip of his back and upwards, caressing muscle and flesh.  Armie started grinding and commenced licking and sucking on his  graceful neck.  He looked him in the eye and said:

‘Do you want me to blow you baby?’

‘Yes please.’

Armie pulled off the shorts that Timothée had swum in, the dick swung free it was hard and ready. He drew the tip into his mouth, his tongue lingering on the crown delving into the cleft. Timothée gasped.

‘Sit up…that’s it.’

He put a dirty towel on the ground and knelt between Timothée’s legs, he couldn’t be seen, the windbreak allowed the top of Timothée’s head could be seen, nothing else. Timothée was sitting on the edge of the lounger, Armie pulled Timothée onto the edge of the lounger, he was finely balanced, took one leg, bent it and put it over his shoulder and forced Timothée to lie back.  Timothée anticipated Armie’s mouth, making little noises and begging him to suck.  Armie took all of Timothée in his mouth, pulled on him from shaft to hood gripping with his lips, opened his throat and took him all the way down. He was going to take his time. He pulled off, Timothée was desolate, reaching out to pull his head back onto his cock.

‘Don’t thrust. I am going to lick and suck you until you come baby, keep still, relax.’

He lied.  He licked a finger and stuck it into Timothée, and recommenced licking and sucking.

‘Keep quiet.’

He kept up a pattern of licking, sucking and fingering.  Timothée gave himself up to whatever Armie was doing to him, but he couldn’t keep quiet and as his climax drew near he became louder, non-vocalised sounds were heard, with the odd occasional ‘’Fuck’ or ‘Sorry’.  And, then very quiet as his body began to pulse.

‘I’m coming Armie…ahh…baby…I’m…’

Armie started palpating him with his mouth using his tongue to draw out his orgasm.  Timothée’s eyes were closed and his mouth open in the joy of the moment, he brushed his fingers through Armie’s hair as his body’s reaction peaked and started to fall off the edge of the orgasm.

‘Come here baby’

He pulled him into his arms, kissed him gently.

‘God, I love you.’

‘I love you too baby.’ 

Another gentle kiss, they lay there for some time, Timothée with his arm behind his head, naked enjoying the warm liquid sun as Armie gently stroked his eyes, hair and lips while his body calmed.  Armie had brushed Timothée’s hand away when he offered him relief.  ‘I can wait sweetie.’ A another soft and deep kiss to confirm, a hand drifting down his body, a final tap to say it’s OK.  They got themselves decent, buzzed for someone to come and take away the remains of their picnic, returned to their room where they went back to bed for a nap.

 

‘Do you want to meet Brett and Pierce for a quick drink before or after dinner, babe?’

‘I don’t want any company, do you mind if it’s just us tonight darling?’  Timothée was very clear, he didn’t want to share Armie tonight.

‘OK, I’ll ring them though perhaps lunch tomorrow?  Would that be OK?  They seemed nice, at least friendly.’

He called them, they were out all day so arranged to have dinner the following day at La Punta, the upscale adults only grill on the resort, they’d meet at 7.30pm have a quick drink and dinner at 8.00pm.

‘What shall we do tomorrow?’

‘I don’t care if we do exactly the same baby.’

‘OK, but the day after we’ll go out for a day trip somewhere. I’ll have a look tonight when we get back.’

‘You won’t have time tonight, I owe you.’  Armie shivered in anticipation.

‘I know where we should go anyway, Chichen Itza, that Mayan site – the one with pyramid thing, we’ll go there, have a rest Wednesday, snorkelling and dolphins on Thursday and rest Friday and then home on Saturday. That’s it, the rest of the week sorted. Babe’

 

Later about 9.00pm, they came back after a beachside meal, Timothée was being bitten so they came back to the suite, it was an Ocean suite – facing onto a beach the sea stretching far into the horizon.  The room was spacious, a deep bath and large shower unit with balcony finishing off the accommodation.  They lit some citronella candles which seemed to ward off the biting insects and sat outside.  Armie opened a bottle of tequila, one of two that he had bought in duty free.

‘You’re a cheapskate. Why couldn’t we just drink the mini bar?’

Armie turned the lizard eyes on him.

‘I am not paying minibar prices, and we are not the only ones doing this.  You drink like a fish where Tequila is concerned. Drink away, there’s two bottles, even you can’t finish them. The resort don’t mind, they know people are drinking in the rooms.’

Timothée felt ungrateful.  He went over to Armie and draped himself all over him.

‘Sorry babe, that was uncalled for.’  He hung arms around Armie’s neck and kissed him.  Armie picked up the two glasses.

‘Let’s sit on the balcony, we can have a nightcap and go to bed early...’

There were some moments of silence.

‘Armie, don’t get mad.’

‘What now?’

‘I want to leave my job.’

‘OK.  What do you want to do?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Do you want to take some time out baby?  You know you can, if you want to go back to college you can, I think there are two universities near Los Angeles that you can go to…you were talking about taking a hospitality course, weren’t you? I think Southern and Long Beach are the best.’

Armie had done his homework and already contacted them to find out how much he might be in for.  He had savings but could also call on money held by the family. They could more than live on his salary. His mother had even offered to lend some money if needed.  He didn’t need his mother to help and was touched that she even considered thinking of doing such a thing.

‘I don’t know if I want or have to go back to school. I am wondering if I could get into a bar or hotel with the experience I already have.’

‘I can’t help you my dear.  I don’t know anything about this area and I don’t know anyone in the field. I could ask my father.  I haven’t thought of asking him, I could ask him, he might know someone.’

‘I was worried, I thought you might think I was taking the piss because you earn more money than  me and I would be living off you for a while.  I have $20K in savings and my parents have said they can give me another $10K which is about the cost of a course, I could work as well and take longer than a year, but I might be reliant on you for accommodation and my living expenses…’

‘Timothée, I’ve said that I would pay your college fees, if you want to take some time to decide what you really want to do, that’s fine.  The only thing I would say is that you need to set yourself  deadlines for a decision and for completion.  That is the only thing I would ask from you.  You live with me, you’re my partner, I can afford to support you…It’s not about the money though is it?’

‘No. I want to know that you support me emotionally as well.  I really don’t know what I should do.  I can afford to go to college, I don’t need your money – I’ll be poor, but I can afford the training. I like my job, it’s just I don’t know where to go with it, I normally have a plan something to work towards but I’ve reached a ceiling.  I know I haven’t been doing the team leader thing for long and it’s dead man shoes for the Cabin Crew Manager roles. Am I thinking too much about this?’

‘No. It feels like you are working out your options.  The only thing I would say is you don’t need to make a decision now.  You’ve been leading the First Class section for only a few months really – you won’t get a cabin crew manager’s role until you’ve done at least another year and you’ll also have to do some more training or take a course.  One way or another you have to do some training.’

‘I don’t want to do any more fucking training, I’ve had enough.’

Armie didn’t know what else to say, he would be repeating himself or start sounding patronising.  He decided to tell him.

‘I don’t mean to be patronising darling.  I don’t know what else to say or do – what do you need from me?’

‘Just listen to me.  I am not really seeking your advice.  You have done more than me but you are not me.  I know you want to help but sometimes all you have to do is listen, sometimes I am not asking for advice, sometimes I just want to vent.’

‘How will I know?  If you tell me things, it is my natural instinct to help and advise. Do you mean to tell me all this time I have been annoying you?

‘No baby, I don’t know what to say…I know it comes across as asking for advice…ohh fuck…I can’t get this right…look it’s not just the job itself…I’m getting fed up of only being able to live a month at a time…I want to spend more time with you and I thought if I could change my job I would settle…I want to be with you more, this type of...I spend too much time on planes…unless I book holidays I never get more than a few days with you, and the living in suitcases…I want a home, with you…I know you like it, the freedom but it’s beginning to feel like I am tied down and I can’t control how I want to live…it was fun and, now it’s not…what about you Armie, how would you feel if I was into the 9 to 5 type of life…is that boring?’

‘It’s not boring…I’m not going to quit my job baby, so we are always going to be on some schedule. Come on what is that you are concerned about?’

‘Look at my family, they are all achievers, I feel a failure…Cabin crew…they do a good job, it’s needed, it’s necessary but what skills are really required…an ability to put up with people who are stressed and the ability to keep to a schedule.  It doesn’t really require much brain.  I like this job but since I met you, I keep thinking I want more, you’ve opened my eyes. My parents were disappointed, I wasted a lot of time when I was young, I didn’t finish college and then I wasted a year and they told me I had to find a job.  I fell into this because I had already met Glen and through him other people already in the business.  But it wasn’t what I wanted to do…can I show you something…’

He took Armie’s hand and drew back into the room.  He produced a note book from his case and handed it to Armie.

‘Tell me what you think.’

Armie took the notebook, it was thick, the paper sensual and inside on lined paper was an outline for a book, ideas, scraps of conversation, whole chapters roughly drawn out, the framework was there, the premise solid: the story of a thwarted love affair over time, two lovers who keep running into each other but who never quite come together, only to meet ten years on, more mature and ready to try again but ultimately never quite resolving, a thread which keeps unravelling.  Armie sat and read through.

‘It’s good. There’s bits in here that sound like us…’

‘Yes, there are.  We’ve spent time apart haven’t we?  I understand how these characters feel.  I love you Armie, I can’t do without you but we are not quite resolved, I know these people.’

‘What would it take Timothée?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Do you want a formal partnership or marriage?’

‘See, there you go trying to fix things…’

‘You are making this very difficult for me.  I don’t know what else I can do for you.’

‘You can be my partner, that is all I want – I want to look after you, let me do what I want.’

‘Do you want some time at home, no work commitments just us, nothing else to worry about? Is that it? Time to explore your writing? ’

‘I think so, all of that. Let me give all my time to you.  I am committed.  I want to find out how deep this goes, and I want to trust you.  I still have this element of fear…that you…’

His voice fell, Armie could barely hear him.

‘That you are playing with me, and that you still want your freedom to do what you want, and I’m just something you can have and that you like but I’m not necessary.  I want to be necessary to you.  The sex is part of that, I am proving to myself that you can’t do without me if I make you dependent on me for that, it’s something concrete. I know that you love having sex with me and I love having sex with you that’s something certain, the other things aren’t.’

Timothée was scared, he lived in miasma of insecurity, the brattish behaviour, the constant reassurance through sex as proof of the validity of their relationship, was his way of showing control in a key area of his life.  He didn’t trust Armie because he had experienced the disaster of losing him and he carried that constantly with him.  He took him back and had been disappointed again, they had stayed together but there was now something running through him that would never go away and he did not know how to tell Armie this.  He felt childlike, grasping and wanting independence but knowing he was deeply and unequivocally dependent on Armie, if he left again he knew he could find another life but because he had experienced joy in Armie and in Armie’s arms, another person did not mean another chance but an alternative not the real thing.  Armie had fucking spoiled him. He told him.

‘You’ve fucking spoiled me.  I can’t see myself with anyone else and you already left me once you fucker, and that is why I don’t trust you.  You could hurt me again.’

Armie was silent because he knew he could not cure this.  He’d left his mark on Timothée and he couldn’t take it back.  It hurt him just as much and he didn’t know how to deal with it.  It was a fundamental part of their relationship, and uncurable.  A kernel with a shell, unbreakable, something that could not be undone, tender at its core.

‘I don’t know myself Timothée, I don’t know why I behaved like that then or now, it hurt you and it hurt me.  All I know is I will do anything to prove to you that I want you and I want you to stay.  If it means that you need to take some time off and avoid distractions so you can work out what you want to do in life, I can give you the freedom to do that. One sure thing is that I need you with me.  Of that I am absolutely clear. I’m sorry…I’m sorry. I can’t take back what I did, it was selfish I didn’t go away because of someone else and I have never not wanted you. It was about getting into a frame of mind where I put you first and understood the reality of that.  We are past that now.  We are where we are now. Let’s not look into the future, let’s just live for now.  I don’t want to be like those people in your story, that is not us.’

He was desperate.  Now he realised what fear was, it wasn’t just the physical loss of Timothée he had risked, he still had to deal with the emotional fall-out.  It was not resolved.  He wanted to put it to one side, he couldn’t deal with it. He opened his mouth to speak again, to say let’s not discuss it now, realised what he was doing was what he had always done: solved it for himself and left for Timothée to deal with it anyway he could.

‘I don’t know the answer.’

‘That’s a start baby. Let’s go to bed.’

Armie took him into his arms, looked into his face and kissed his forehead softly, put his arms around him, and pressed him to him, brought his hands to his face and held it so that Timothée could see clearly that he was invested and paying attention.  He kissed his eyelids and dragged his lips down his throat, dropping kisses into the hollows and bend of his neck. He turned his head, pressing and maintaining close contact, physically still in their embrace, sure of their love and renewed respect for each other.

‘I don’t want to change you Armie, I love you just as you are.  We both have to find ways of dealing with our insecurities because this is what this is.  We have to protect what we have. We have to stop constantly re-examining the relationship.  Can we live for, and treasure each moment, at least for now?’

‘Yes baby…let’s go to bed darling.’

 

‘When did you start writing?’

‘I have always written things, bits and pieces, I kept a diary through my teenage years.  I burnt them when I got to twenty-one.  I thought I had grown up, time to destroy childish things. I threw out all my toys and childhood things at the same time.  I even had the condom wrapper from the first time I slept with someone, that went as well.’

‘How old were you when you first slept with a man…boy?’

Timothée fell silent.

‘You’re not going to tell me?  What else are you going to keep from me Timothée, you have to be able to discuss these things with me.’

‘You might not like to hear.’

‘Oh, so is it shocking?’

‘No…I wasn’t underage.  Eighteen.’

‘Were you a virgin?’

‘Yes.’

‘So Glen was your first?

There was a deep breath, and no words.  Wide green eyes searched for a opinion in Armie’s face.

Armie kissed his forehead, they were lying in bed, still continuing their conversation, things that they had never discussed were coming out.

‘Did you enjoy it?’

‘Yes, he was considerate. He guessed.’

‘You were lucky.  I was incredibly stupid, no condom, I just wanted to fuck him, it was spur of the moment. My Mom went ballistic, she knew what I might do, she’d somehow worked it out, and asked me afterwards how it went not for details but to let me know she was OK with me sleeping with men.  He was someone who I was good friends with, he was experimenting, we had a bromance and spent a lot of time together. One night he’d kissed me, I kissed him back, we made out, the next time we met we made out again and fucked – he’d slept over. We enjoyed it, but it didn’t happen again, I think it made his mind up.  He married a nice girl he’d known forever.  I was eighteen too.  I slept with a girl when I was nearly sixteen, she knew about that too.’

‘Yeah my Mom knew too.  How do they do that?’

‘I got tested, always a condom after that.  Except with you Timothée.’

‘You trusted me.’

‘Yes.  I never thought about it.’

‘I was always safe Armie,  I would never put myself at risk, or at least that was true until I met you. I wanted you from the moment I laid eyes on you.  Did you know that?’

‘No.  To be honest, I wasn’t sure you liked me.  You were not very consistent, in fact you outright told me lies…’

Timothée laughed.

‘Embellishments.  I wanted to intrigue you.  Make you want me. It kind of worked. I could see when you changed from wanting me to believing that I was a lying little shit…ha…ha…ha…’

‘So this not working business…how is this supposed to work? What should I call you?’

‘Your partner, for now.’

‘Not house husband…’

‘No. I am your partner, your equal but I am going to do everything to make you happy because when I do that I am happy too.  This is not a permanent thing, it’s something I have to work through to get the hurt out of my system.  I have to give myself up to you Armie. Do it freely, no side, do everything with love and put aside difference, I am never going to tell you no Armie, you can ask me for anything.  I trust you because I know you won’t do anything that demeans me or what we have.  We are fucking solid.’

Armie wanted to cry, in fact he could not help himself, a tear rolled out of his eye.  Timothée took his thumb and wiped it away.

‘I love you baby, in all ways and all versions Armie.  I gave you my heart a long time ago.  I had no choice. You are everything I ever dreamed of in a lover and partner.’


	24. Twenty-Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vacation.
> 
> This is fiction. I do not know them and as far as I am aware Armie has never flown a plane.

‘I’m tired, do we have to go?’

‘Why don’t you stay in bed baby? I’ll go and you can have a rest.’

‘You’re going to leave me on my own?’

‘Well you won’t miss me, you’ll be sleeping.’

Timothée swung his legs out of bed.

‘I’m sore, you bent me in fucking half last night.  I can’t walk, it hurts.’

‘Stay here, you’re tired and your legs hurt baby.  Have a spa day.’

A very dirty look was thrown from Timothée to Armie.

He went into the bathroom to shower, he hardly had to shave, his beard was soft and very slow growing, he stopped.

‘You’ve burnt me. Look I’ve got a rash on my face and on my thigh, look, it’s red.’

He drew breath noisily between his teeth.  Bent down and turned his leg out to show the graze, moving aside his dick and balls.

‘Look’

He glanced up to see if Armie had seen what he was doing, a slight smile, his eyes were dancing. He stood up, and made himself decent. He placed an hand on his hip, his elbow turned out just so and turned out his groin.

‘I can’t leave the room.  I’m in pain. This is all your fault, you’ve broken me.  You need to shave properly and we should have proper sex.’

Armie looked at him, assessing the situation.

‘OK, I can shave…But what is proper sex?…Tell me because we _were_ having proper sex last night…you were making a lot of noise and moaning like you enjoyed it, I thought you liked it.  What do you want me to do?  Are you trying to make me feel guilty?’

‘Why, do you feel guilty?’

I don’t feel guilty, but you have accused me of making you have unnatural sex, causing you pain,  giving you beard burn, keeping you up all night…I’m waiting for the next accusation.  Do you think I am being unreasonable?’

‘I didn’t say you were unreasonable.’

‘Then what do you mean?  I am trying very hard here to see what I have done wrong.’

Silence.

‘…I’ll see how I feel after breakfast.’

 

‘This tea is nasty.’

Armie flicked an eye at his boyfriend.  The boyfriend was oblivious, he was buttering toast and eyeing preserves.  He carried on drinking his coffee and reading a paper.

‘No fucking Nutella.’ He raised a hand, a waiter arrived.  ‘Do you have any Nutella please.’ 

He twinkled at the waiter, who simpered at the attention.  The waiter was pretty – his eyes soft and brown. He was very obviously gay and very taken by the boyfriend…Armie was not used to being by-product, it put him on edge. The waiter always gave Timothée his full attention, Armie was nowhere in contention, the waiter would run over even when he was on the wrong side of the room.  Armie watched the interaction and put the paper down.

‘Stop it.’

‘What?’

‘You are misleading him.’

‘How? I am a guest, and I am with you. I am politely asking for something that is missing from the table.’

‘You are flirting with him.’

‘No, I’m not.’

‘Looks like flirting to me.’

Timothée raised a hand.

The pretty waiter was back.

How can I help you Timothée?’

Armie gave him the look of fuck off, the waiter acknowledged his attention by turning on a professional mien. Armie answered on Timothée’s behalf. 

‘Do you have any Matcha green tea? My boyfriend prefers that to this shit.’

Timothée sat up very straight, he liked when Armie got possessive.

‘And next time you see us make sure there’s Nutella on our table. See us, make sure it’s right.  Am I clear?’

The waiter nodded and scuttled off.

‘Armie?’

‘Yes baby?’

‘You are fucking turning me on.’

Armie took his foot out of its shoe, pressed it forward into Timothée’s groin and pushed the pad onto the flesh of Timothée’s balls, he flicked upwards onto the dick.  Timothée groaned theatrically, people turned round to look at what was wrong.  He opened his hips and dropped his hand onto Armies foot, directing it so it was right on the meat of his dick.

‘Rub it Armie…I’m getting so hard…rub it you fucker.’

The pretty waiter came back.

Armie spoke.

‘Can you make him the tea please, we’re a bit occupied.’

Wide eyed, the waiter made the tea at the table.  He pretended not to notice as Timothée variously writhed, muttered and cursed, and then fell quiet.

‘Take your foot off me.  I want to go upstairs to finish this off. Alfonso, can you put the tea in a disposable cup please. We’re finished here. Armie let’s go.’ 

Timothée was always very still just before he came, very quiet just before, very noisy otherwise when they made love.  Armie always knew when he was close.  Timothée swanned off from the table, his jeans were tight, his cock held close to the crease of his hip, its hardness not very visible, as he walked he rolled his ass trying to contain the orgasm which was approaching.  Both the waiter and Armie stood and watched entranced.

‘That belongs to me.  Have a care…’

 

‘You’ve made me hot.  Gonna have to shower again.’

‘Hurry up, the coach leaves in 30 mins, we have to be there in 15.’

‘It’s your fault. Stop talking to me. You’re going to make me late.’

‘Wear some proper shoes.  It’s a long walk and it’s going to be a long day. Where are your sneakers?’

I’m going to wear those sandals.’

‘Are you sure?’

Armie changed backpack, he put the soft shoes in the bottom adding a long sleeved t-shirt, a pair of socks, a large bottle of water, their sunglasses, phones, powerbank, tissues, salve, SPF50 sunscreen, two cereal bars, two baseball caps and a camera on top. The bag was heavy, he would have to bear it, he had to be prepared for more of the Timothée behaviour.

They had a very enjoyable time, marvelled at architecture and views, and used everything Armie packed.

 

‘I’m so tired Armie, going to nap.’  Timothée was already lying on the bed, he rolled over and was asleep in a minute.

Armie smiled, Timothée had been a royal pain in the ass, mainly because he was tired. He didn’t try to prevent him from sleeping, if needed he would meet Brett and Pierce by himself.  He sat in one of the lounging chairs on the balcony and promptly fell asleep himself.  He was not immune. He woke to someone breathing on him.

‘Wake up baby it’s seven.  We got to go.’

‘Fuck it let’s stay here.’

‘No, we got to meet them, get up Armie.’

‘Why are you being so pleasant? I’m tired, you wore me out, you’ve been tiresome all day. I’m fucking tired, leave me alone.’

Timothée got into his lap, blew in his ear and started kissing him down the line of his chin, once he got to the point he licked his lips and kissed him gently on his mouth then wrapped his arms around him. Just held him. Armie shifted so Timothée’s ass sat directly on his cock.

‘Come on baby, we’ll enjoy ourselves, we can drink eat and run. Get up. Don’t start with that.’ 

Pressed down on Armie’s filling cock.

‘Come on.’

But didn’t move.  Settled the crack of his ass directly over Armie’s lap, rubbed up and down a few times, turned round with his legs between Armie’s so that the dick slid nicely between his legs and his ass.

Armie started groaning and hissing.

Timothée got up.

‘Get up and get dressed.’

Timothée walked off, divesting himself of the robe he was wearing, his still pale, peachy behind wobbled gently as he walked. Armie didn’t know whether to take his dick in his hand or to get up and fuck him.  Then he remembered where he was, still on the balcony, his dick was prominent and making a tent in his shorts.

‘And you can’t fuck me.  Tonight if we fuck, I am going to fuck you. So you better get yourself in a respectable state so you can leave the room.  You have fifteen minutes, I already had a shower.’

The little fucker.

Armie squeezed his dick, it subsided.

 

‘Somebody’s been having a nice time.’

Armie reddened and grew hot, perversely instead of shrinking, his dick continued to fill out, he tried to hide it. The little shit had kissed him all the way down the lift and didn’t stop when someone got in.  Their lift mate coughed and turned to face the lift doors. He threw him off when the doors opened, he was going have trouble with him all evening, this was turning into a day and a half.

‘I love my boyfriend.  And I can’t keep my hands off him.’

‘I can see. Plenty to hold onto.’

Brett winked lasciviously.

‘Still like that is it?  Those were the days weren’t they Pierce?’

Pierce just laughed.  ‘Don’t mind us we don’t care, we remember what it was like.  Once he fucked me in his mother’s storeroom.  It was fucking embarrassing, there were tins and jars flying off the shelves.’

‘That sounds like us in my old bedroom, things were flying off the chest of draws.  My mother came in.’

Everybody chuckled except for Armie.  He was beyond embarrassed, they were standing at the bar, the bar man could hear what was being said.  He spoke.

‘I was like that with my wife, we’d fuck whenever we could, those days are gone – I miss them. Enjoy them while you can Armie.’

‘The fuck, how do you know my name?’

‘Everybody knows who you are.  You are the best looking man in the building and your boyfriend gave my friend the best show of his life this morning, he had to go and fix himself after you had left the table.  Your boyfriend’s body belies the size of his dick.’

‘What a fucking sideshow. See you cannot fucking behave yourself, everyone knows who we are.  You think this is funny?’

Timothée was smirking.

‘I…I…wait…sorry…this is rude of me…You wanted a pleasant drink and we are behaving like trash.’

Timothée put an arm around his neck and gave him a large smacker on the mouth, he also made sure he grazed his engorged dick.  ‘Sorry baby, I’ll be good…’ Then he said in a loud whisper, ‘I’m gonna fuck you so good later.’  The dick leapt.

Everyone just laughed.  Armie blushed even more, and sighed.  Brett and Pierce obviously didn’t mind, he was the only one who gave a fuck.  There was plenty of time to punish his boyfriend in ways both pleasurable and corrective, he was irredeemable - he either took Timothée as he was or not at all.  He felt himself smiling and lighting up inside at the very thought of him.  Shook his head, he couldn’t do without him, he brought him joy, terrible behaviour or not he was his, and woe betide anyone who thought otherwise, he had no time for them.  He could see people looking at them and tutting, they could fuck off.

‘Armie, you OK babe?’

‘Yes darling. Right are we ready to eat? Let’s go through.’

 

‘We only have tomorrow Armie. Oh, I am going to miss this so much.  Thank you for treating me to this baby.  Tomorrow we are going to do exactly what you want.’

Armie knew this wasn’t true, every day there had been some kind of ‘discussion’ about what was happening and normally he gave in.

‘Where shall we eat tonight?  Peru or the Grill, I know you love the Grill, shall we go there?’

‘But you prefer the Indochine, let’s go there.’

‘No, baby you want to go to La Punta, let’s go there.  Let’s dress up, can we have cocktails and champagne?’

‘Anything you want.’

‘Let me go first, I’ll shower now, I got to wash my hair – it’s still sticky from the sea.  I’m gonna be a while.’

Armie got his Kindle.  He sat with a tequila on the balcony, after half an hour, he got up and had another. He was feeling nicely switched on.

‘Are you pissed?’

‘Pissed, no I am not angry.’

‘Not pissed, I mean are you drunk?’

‘No, just buzzing.  The shower will take the edge off.’

‘How many have you had?’

‘Two.’

‘So four, or six…’

‘LOL…Touché’

 

They went down and went straight to the table, Timothée was concerned that Armie would have too much to drink.  Armie ordered a bottle of very good red wine, and a Rib Eye steak, Timothée had the Salmon.  Armie drank the whole bottle of red wine, Timothée had two glasses of champagne.  Timothée was looking closely at him, judging if he was sober.

‘Are you pissed?’

‘No.’

‘Liar.’

‘A bit. Let’s go for a walk.’

‘Do we have to, m’not dressed for late night walks Armie.’

‘Come on.’  Armie took his hand. ‘Come on darling.  I want to talk to you.’

‘Talk to me on the balcony.’ There was a slight tetch  in Timothée’s voice.  He relaxed. ‘OK, let’s go.’  He put his arm around Armie’s waist and Armie put his arm around his shoulder and drew him close.

They set off down the beach, walked down towards the pier, there were multiple soft lights and a rope along the edge of the pontoon to make sure they couldn’t fall off into the sea. They sat down on the loungers and Armie pulled the backs up so that they were not lying prone, then pushed both loungers together to form a sleeping platform.

‘Timothée, you know I love you very much.’

There was something in his voice.  Timothée grew a little anxious.  What was going on? Was he going to break with him?  He sounded uncertain like he had something important, and not good.

‘Are you happy?’

‘Yes.’

‘Have we discussed everything you had on your mind before we left?’

‘Yes.’

‘Nothing you want clarified or want to talk about?’

‘No.’

‘So, you are going to stay with me?’

‘Yes. We discussed this.  What do you want?’

‘I’ve got something for you.’

He pulled out a small box, unmistakably Cartier. Opened it, in it lay a Trinity wedding ring, it looked like it was engraved.

‘Honey Badger.’

‘What?’

‘You’re my honey badger.  You promised yourself to me physically and emotionally.’

Timothée was happy.

‘Yes. I did.’

‘You’re gonna be my partner, my live-in stay at home partner.’

A giggle.

‘Yes.’

‘Here’s my commitment, a ring a physical representation.  I’m marking the occasion. It says ‘AH loves Honey Badger.  It’s round in form and in shape, a never-ending circle of love.  I’m serious about you Timothée. I am not leaving you, I’m never leaving you.’

He was nervous.  He wasn’t sure how Timothée would take it or how he would behave.  He needn’t have worried. Timothée crept into him.

‘Where is it?  Give it to me baby.’

Armie placed the ring on the ring finger of his left hand, the white gold Juste un Clou ring remained on the ring finger of Timothée’s right hand – anyone would be able to see that Timothée was not single.

‘No one can be confused. You’re taken.’

Timothée climbed him. And kissed him.  Not just a thank you kiss, a kiss of a life time.  A kiss to show how much he desired him and how equal he was to Armie’s demonstration of his love and commitment. He twisted and caressed the ring, when he felt it, it was as intended, a physical representation of Armie, his fingers brushed over the silvered band, taking it off and on, enjoying how it felt, trying to read the engraving in the moonlight.  He put back it on, he didn’t want to lose it.

‘…How did you know what size to buy baby?’

‘You know you tried on my Mother’s rings…’


	25. Twenty-Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Normal life resumes...the house comes back into the picture.
> 
> This is fiction. I do not know them and as far as I am aware Armie has never flown a plane.

‘Armie, when do you actually fly to London?’

Belle wanted to know because she thought she might invite Timothée to stay with her and Michael.

‘Timothée is coming with me, and we are flying out on the 16th.’

‘Oh, we were going to invite him to stay with us.  He told us he might come and stay.’

‘He was being polite,’

What he meant was, I’m not leaving him here, he comes with me where I go.

Belle wasn’t surprised, she had noted how close her son and his partner had become, they hardly spent time apart. If Armie was home, so was Timothée, they were devoted to each other and strongly bonded, they did not need anyone else. They understood each other on a visceral level.

Michael was now fully reconciled to his son, and proud of him now that he owned his behaviour and was making every effort to behave like an adult, fully committed in a loving relationship.  He no longer cared if his partner was male or female, what gave him joy was his full commitment to Timothée and his acceptance of Timothée’s foibles.  Michael loved Timothée, temperament and all, he knew that part of loving was acceptance of all parts of a person, what mattered was intention. And Timothée’s intentions had never been in doubt.  It helped that Belle and Timothée were partners in crime, they thought similarly and they liked the same things, he was blended into the family. Michael would catch Armie looking on with real happiness at the way Timothée had been accepted into his family.  Michael had taken the opportunity to speak to his son and tell him that he was proud of him and everything he had achieved, now when difficult moments occurred they could look at each other and work out what had to be fought over and what didn’t matter.  It was a relief.

‘I don’t know why you won’t marry that boy.  You are very possessive’

Armie turned the evil eye gaze on her. 

‘I was married before and it was not representative of how much I regarded or loved that person. Nor am I sure about same-sex marriage. It’s something I haven’t gone into detail about with Timothée. Don’t interfere.’

‘Woah…I was being…flippant…don’t take me so serious.  Both of you have joked about it before, so I thought you were comfortable with the idea.’

Armie didn’t answer her and left the room.

 

‘He’s going to ask Timothée to marry him.’

‘How do you know?’

‘He won’t talk about it. That means he’s considered it and he said that he wasn’t sure about same-sex marriage, so he has thought about it.’

‘Don’t get the hat yet. He loves Timothée, but marriage is something else altogether and he’s done it once he’ll think twice this time.

‘That was a marriage of convenience.  This is different, this is for love.  He’s already given him a commitment ring.  It’s just a question of time.  You know Armie, he’ll put off making the proposal until it comes back and hits him up the side of his head, and he doesn’t have a choice.  Timothée has been good for him, he’s more on top of what he needs emotionally.  The pair of you are witness to that, you don’t know how happy I am that you are reconciled and there’s peace in the house when he comes.’

‘OK, OK, don’t keep going on about that, I had to learn something as well; that boy is both incorrigible and easy to love.’

‘He’s not a boy, he’s twenty eight, nearly twenty nine.’

‘I know , but he is so sweet.’

‘Sweet…he is not sweet, he is a little shit.’

Michael laughed.  ‘Yes, that too.  He was telling me about their holiday.  He led Armie a fine dance, and he loved it.  He told me things that I did not want to know about my son.  He was trying to give me hints about how to improve our love life.’

Belle turned her face away.

‘He was speaking to you as well, wasn’t he?’

Like her son, she wasn’t good at lying or dissembling, Timothée had told her many things.  He trusted her, they really were good friends. She knew when to draw the line with him but when he was upset she would let him speak and sometimes the things he said were personal and private.  He could be tactical, the behaviour did not extend to Belle, he was himself with her, pure.  The only other person that saw this side of him was Armie.  She was his confidante and she did not share what he said.  She turned her baby blue eyes on him and he knew not to ask any more questions.

‘OK, I get it.  Let’s have some dinner – we’ll go out, leave the boy to his own devices.  He’s gone into his room I think he is Facetiming Timothée.  He’ll probably be some time.’

 

Armie heard the outer door close.

‘They’ve gone out.  What have you been saying to Belle?’

‘Nothing.’

‘OK.  Keep your little secrets.  You tell her more than you tell me.’

‘Jealous?’

‘No.  Annoyed.’

‘Oh…why?’

‘I don’t know.  I feel like you should only tell me important things…how you feel…you know things you should tell your lover…’

‘I don’t tell her those things Armie, she is your mother.’

Timothée genuinely looked and sounded shocked.

‘You really do mind.  She’s my friend.  I can talk to her about anything, she’s like my second Mom.  Other than you, she is the person I can be myself with.  Don’t make that face.  You should be happy we get on so well…Wow! You really are jealous.’

‘I can’t deny it.  I want to be the only person who you share your inner most secrets with.  The only one who sees all sides of you, that you feel the most comfortable with, the one that will never judge you.  You’re mine…I can’t help it..I don’t want to share…I’m possessive, that’s how I am.’

‘But Armie you have the most of me. You’re the person I see the most of.  The person I speak to most often.  I tell you everything.  I don’t tell Belle everything, I use her like a sounding board, to clear my head.  And, I haven’t had to do that recently because everything has been so good between us.  I really am very happy.’

‘OK…OK…now I feel stupid.’

‘Don’t feel stupid. It’s nice that you’re jealous. I miss you.’

‘I’m coming back tomorrow baby. I miss you too.’

As a result of their spending so much time together, both were happier than they had ever been.  Timothée’s behaviour had calmed down, if the behaviour worsened, then he knew something was up, and that he had to find the cause.  He in turn became less cynical, more even tempered, both were more themselves with each other than ever before or with others.

 

‘How long are you going to be?’

‘Another half an hour, I just got to get this sentence worked out.’

’30 minutes for one sentence.’

‘Yes.’

 Some time later.

‘Right you have had your 30 minutes, put the book down and come and eat.’

‘I have to send this draft off tomorrow, I just have this paragraph to review.’

‘Who are you sending it to.  I thought Christina had already read it for you.’

‘She did but she suggested a few things and I started to put them in and it changed the tone so I have to go back in and fix it so it comes back to what I meant in the first place.  You eat and I’ll join you later.’

Timothée had carried on with his writing.  He’d joined a local writing group and was taking pieces of his initial work to the group to help him define the structure and refine the text.  The leader of the group, Christina who taught at the community college, told Timothée that his work was promising.  She didn’t think it was publishable in it’s current state but felt he should finish it, and take some ideas from this original work when he went onto his next piece of work, whether that was a short story or a novel.  He was proud that she saw it as a book and not a collection of ideas and Armie was proud that he had the talent to get together the ideas which he then put into book structure.  It also meant that he was able to spend time on something he enjoyed whilst Armie was working.

It was one thing to be a ‘house husband’, another to be someone who merely lived off his partner. Timothée had to have something to occupy his time and he knew that at some point he had to earn his own money even if it meant going back to cabin crew. For now he was going to enjoy the time and the emotional space he gained from this sabbatical.

Armie had decided to undertake the training so he could move to LA-Europe flights, their time in Australia was nearly over.  He’d looked into converting his US licence so he could, they might move back permanently to LA or even consider moving to London.

‘urghh I have to take exams. It’s a long time since I had to study.  I wonder if I can do them here rather than going to England.’

‘There’s a medical as well. You _can_ do it here baby, go online there’s a British company, Bristol Ground School – I ‘ve done some research for you.  You need to do some actual flying but given you have so much experience you can probably do the minimum less than 100 hours and just do some sim flying and a few observed flights.  Oh, and I think you should do some night flying or sim night flying, 5 hours is the minimum...there was something else…hang on…do the APTL not the commercial pilot licence.*’

Armie got up and gave his boyfriend a kiss and a big hug.

‘What would I do without you?’

‘You can take me back to London when you go for the observed flights baby.’

‘OK, Deal.’

‘Might take you a year though.  And it’s a lot of work, you won’t be able to mess around if you want to keep on track.’

‘a year …’

‘Yes, there are 14 exams and from what I’ve read, there’s a lot to get through, you’ll need to concentrate.  I’ll help you revise darling.’

‘How much is it going to cost me?’

‘hmmm…well that is something you are going to have to find out, I think in all probability the exams and licence will work out to around 10 grand, then there’s the flying, and then accommodation costs.  I don’t know, maybe overall 50 or 60 grand, probably less, I don’t know. Can’t you get sponsorship from Virgin?  If you are worried about money, I won’t be doing that hospitality course, I can give you some money if you are short.’

‘What do you mean you won’t be doing the hospitality course?  When did we discuss that?  We don’t have to worry about money, I have more than enough, we will have the house money – I can talk to the trustees, and my Mom has already promised to help if I need. What are you talking about?’

Timothée turned a bit shy.  Not back to his previous non-communicative behaviour but still perturbing to Armie.

‘I don’t want to do the theory, if I go into that field I am going to work in it.  I can do on the job training.  I don’t mind the money, cabin crew pay starts off low – I can get used to it. Plus now I am doing some writing, I don’t know if I want to do that full time…I might be able to find a course which is more hands on…’ He tapered off.  He was equivocating, obviously uncertain and trying to find a justification.  Armie took notice, and turned a sharp gaze on him.  He knew when Timothée was hiding something, and when he was anxious and trying to shade an answer.  This was one of those moments.

‘Timothée, if you are going into that field you have to learn about food hygiene, health and safety, employee rights, licensing laws…do I have go on?  You are in for some learning, practical tests and exams…is that it?…You goose…why didn’t you tell me…is it the thought of the exams that give you anxiety?’

‘I feel so stupid…I get so anxious when I have to sit there…my head can’t cope…I can learn it all but  I can’t get it out…I just freeze…that’s why I didn’t finish college…I can do the practical work…I didn’t tell anyone…you’re the only person who’s realised.’

‘And the reason why you are thinking hard about going into the next tier of management?

‘Yes…it’s not just work…’  Timothée’s words fell off.  ‘Sometimes anxiety is hard to deal with, it turns into stress.  And I met you and…I had to make you love me…I wanted you so much…I was trying to make sure you only thought of me…’

‘Idiot.  Once I met you there was no-one else. There is no-one better and I don’t want anyone else. Come here you fool.’ 

They both crossed to the sofa, Armie gathered Timothée into his arms, who rested his head on his shoulder, they got comfortable.  Timothée felt like putting his thumb into his mouth, a comfort from his childhood, he placed the thumb on his mouth and suckled the tip biting on the nail, Armie kissed his temple. He curled up like a child, one knee resting gently on Armie’s lap.  Armie pulled him in closer, they sat for a while.  Timothée felt at home.

‘I like how you are…I find it amusing, I am not even bothered by your very mostest behaviour, and I like looking after you.  It made me fall in love with you, deeper than I thought possible.  I see through you, and I don’t…didn’t because I didn’t always know where it was coming from.  You have a good heart and a very good head. Oh, baby…you can tell me anything…don’t hide anything from me.’

‘Are you cross?’

‘No.’

‘If I concentrate on you, on making you happy, it makes me feel better.  It’s something I know I am good at.’

‘Baby, you are good at a lot of things, why do you think they gave you the responsibility of First Class Service.  Virgin don’t give that to anyone, they pride themselves on the service they give.  Have you ever been criticised?  Or held back? Haven’t they asked if you want to manage a larger team, give you management of all of the premium seating?  Be a trainer? You have very good social skills.’

Timothée fell quiet again.

‘Your writing is excellent.  I am not just saying that, Christina thinks so too, so do the rest of your group. That’s without all the personal stuff you do for me, and do to keep our life on track.  I can’t do without you.’

‘Sorry.’

‘What are you sorry for…Timothée I really don’t care, what you’ve done has brought us closer together. We are in a very good place.  Now, come on, sit up.  We have to work out where we are going from here.’

 

Armie wasted no time, shortly afterwards he logged onto Bristol Ground School and signed on, renewed his membership of a gym – he’d stopped going, and registered Timothée at the local community college for a short course: Introduction to the Hospitality Industry.

‘Just test it baby, it’s a short course you can use it as a taster and it can be used as part of the entry qualification for longer courses.  You don’t have to do a degree, there are industry based courses as well.’

In his heart he knew that Timothée was taking time off, he was going to return to Cabin Crew at some point, he loved the work, they had to find a way of working the rotas so that it suited them both and they had to find a permanent home, a passing thought came in his head – they should have kept the house, that would relieve some of the pressure that Timothée felt.  He had already expressed his concern about living out of a suitcase.  Armie took that seriously.

He sent a text to Alan, asking him to contact Timothée if he had any shifts that needed covering at short notice.  He wouldn’t see him lose his hard-gained experience nor the esteem his colleagues already held for him.

‘Timmy, we have the apartment in Melbourne, and this apartment in Sydney and I don’t know how to manage this.  I have my schedule and I don’t need to concentrate on it because it’s kind of dictated to me but I know it’s hard for you, you have to follow me around and you need some stability. You’ve taken time off to be with me and it’s not really fair on you.  But I don’t know how to make it fair.’

‘I don’t know Armie, perhaps ask for flights that keep you on a regular schedule?  I don’t even think it is that.  I just need to feel like I have to have a home.  If you are going to take that conversion course, you are going to be gone even more. I don’t mind, well I do mind but I can cope, but I do want to be in my own home and I don’t want to be here if you are in LA or England getting your licence.  Can we look for something permanent in LA, and soon please.’

‘I’ll ask my parents about that money – we need to buy somewhere, it’s not like we won’t be able to afford it. Any ideas about where?’

‘I’ll do some research…you’re making a face…you know where you want to live…I don’t know why you asked me…and I am not annoyed…you should just say.’

‘…I want that house…’

‘…You son of a bitch.  After the fuss you made, now you want it back?  Did you ever check if it actually sold?  No.  You were not interested, you just wanted out.  Now you want it back. What a fucking mess, that house was all that I wanted, now we have to go and find something in the same area, don’t we?  You’re making that face again, what is it this time?’

‘It hasn’t sold yet…well, the transaction hasn’t gone through yet.  We could take it off the market and pay them back their expenses. They were waiting for an inheritance to come through, it’s taking longer than they thought…’

‘Really, really?’

Timothée was happy.

‘Are you sure?  What about settlement for Viktor?’ 

‘I’ll talk to Mom and Dad, that might be already sorted.’

He’d already spoken to Belle and Michael, who were happy that the house was going to stay in the family but annoyed that it had taken Armie so long to come round to the fact that it was a perfect home for him and Timothée.  They told Armie that he would have to deal with everything if he was changing his mind.  They would sign anything, but he had to make the arrangements and negotiate with lawyers. Armie had smirked, he knew he was going to hand everything over to Timothée, who had a vested interest in seeing the house come back to the family and ultimately to them.  Moreover, he had the time to do the work.

His phone rang.  Timothée answered.

‘Hey Alan, how are you?

What?

What?

I don’t know

When is it?

Who’s on the team?

Who’s the Commander?

‘What’s the layover?

OK, OK…

How long? 

Yeah, I haven’t resigned yet…yeah, leave of absence…OK…

Yes.

Yes, I said Yes, I’ll do it. 

Send me an email.

Do you want to speak with him, he’s here.

Armie…Armie…

It’s Alan.

 

Did you tell him to keep me in mind?  He fake whispered the question.

Armie…Armie

He handed the phone to Armie and waited.

‘Did you speak with him?’

‘Not really…’

‘What do you mean? Not Really.  What else are you hiding?’

‘Nothing.  I mean…that’s it. Everything is sorted now…’


	26. Twenty-Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The future comes calling, what next?
> 
> This is fiction, I don't know them and as far as I know Armie has never flown a plane.

‘You were only going to do that one shift.’

‘Yeah.’

‘I haven’t seen you.  Our schedules are not working. You need to tell Alan no, that you can’t do anymore for him. You were only meant to do help out, not work full time.’

‘You are exaggerating. I have done three shifts in the last two months, the timing is unfortunate that’s all.  You were in Sydney when I was in LA, I know we only got to be in the same place for a couple of days at a time last month.  I’ll refuse the next one.’

Now Armie felt guilty.  Timothée had enjoyed doing these odd turns on the rota. It really wasn’t his fault that the timings were so terrible, and he wanted to enjoy them, it gave him a break from the monotony of being alone at home for a couple of weeks each month. 

Timothée enjoyed the time for writing, but he knew that he was not going to make it a career – if it was done to make money, it became work, and he did not have the drive to make it pay.  He could self-publish but he wanted someone to actively pick his work.  He’d sent several copies of the outline of a book to small publishers.  He got non-committal responses, no complete knockbacks and no rejections out of hand just recommendations to keep writing – some authors got rejection after rejection, it was no comfort and he did not take this for the positive thing it was.  Armie told him to keep writing, but he was beginning to get fed-up of the seeming rejection and impersonal response when he did speak to anyone.  He went to the Sydney Book Festival, he did readings, he joined another writers’ group, Christina became more than his group leader, she was a critical friend who he could talk to about the book in an impartial way and, also someone who came to know him as a true friend.  She’d come to dinner several times with her husband.  This was the other thing, they held dinner parties now in Sydney, they went to dinner parties and barbeques, they were settling there, Timothée still wasn’t sure it was home.  The writing was fun, he wanted to keep it that way.

This whole period also made Armie appreciate how much he needed to be around Timothée.  He was his lodestar, he realised that Timothée did not need him, he wanted to be around him which was very different…Timothée could manage without him. The opposite was true for Armie, he needed him like he needed the blood in his veins.  He wanted him home.  He felt like he had a limb missing when he wasn’t near.  He just missed him, he just wanted him.

 

‘We don’t fuck like we used to.’

‘We’ve just fallen out of the habit babe. Do you want to go to bed now?’

‘Only to sleep, I’m tired.’

‘Old man…’

 

‘What are you doing?’

‘I’ve got my finger in your ass, what do you think I am doing?  You were complaining about us not making love Armie.’

‘The word I used was fuck. And that is what I meant.  We have sex, but we no longer fuck.’

‘Do you want to fuck.’

‘No.  Go to sleep, I have to go work. Timothée, I need to get some sleep, leave me alone.’

‘I’m awake.  It’s not even 11, the flight doesn’t leave until 1100hrs.  You don’t have to be there until 8…’

He held onto Armie’s dick.  Armie lay on his side, waiting, Timothée pressed his body up against Armie’s back, he lifted a leg onto Armie’s hip, opening his body his dick right up against Armie’s ass, he was beginning to swell, he wasn’t hard but there was no way that Armie did not feel him.  He pressed harder against him. Armie had no chance of escaping the meaning and sensation.  Timothée scooted down the bed, now he had direct contact with the soft meat of Armie’s ass. Armie groaned.

‘Straighten up Armie.’

‘You fucker. I need to sleep.’

 ‘Rude.’

Timothée didn’t sleep in anything, Armie mostly didn’t, they were skin to skin.

‘On your stomach, Armie.’

Timothée lay on top of him, he placed a hand under Armie’s body, made him slightly turn on his side squeezed his nipple, squeezed it again and used his teeth to tease and bit Armie on the side and crease of his neck.  Armie groaned again. He rolled Armie onto his back and laid on top of him, he took Armie’s nipple into his mouth and sucked on it, placed on a hand on his dick and started squeezing that too.  Armie grew hard in his hand, liquid forming on the tip, he spread it round with his hand, wiped his hand against his mouth and made Armie watch by dint of pure lust. The nipple grew giving him more to work on, he sucked it hard, took his hand and started rubbing and squeezing the other nipple hard, he knew it was hurting Armie, he bit him.

‘Shit…’

The dick stood straight up.  He put his hand on it, starting pulling on it got the crown in his hand and pulled it.

‘Timothée…what are you…ohh…stroke it baby…hard....oh fuck…’

‘No. Turn over.’

Timothée reached over for the lube. He swiped his dick with some, pulled Armie’s ass cheeks apart and dropped a good dollop onto his hole, it clenched, Armie grunted and sighed.  He got above Armie and guided his dick directly into his hole, he just pressed himself into Armie, who held his breath, and paused, then made soft sounds of pleasure as Timothée pushed into him.

‘Oh Timothée…’

He didn’t pound him, just took his time, and slowly fucked him.

‘Is this what you mean by fucking Armie?’

‘Yes.’

‘I’m gonna come inside you. I’m gonna fuck you bare. You’re gonna carry me with you tomorrow.’

‘Oh Shit…Go ahead…Fuck me baby.’

Timothée pressed himself into Armie and kept close, he slowly fucked Armie until he could not bear it anymore and for the last few moments fucked him hard to reach his climax.  Timothée left himself in Armie’s hole, he was gripped right down to his root and got his orgasm directly from Armie whose body was convulsing, drawing out his cum, they kissed to complete the act, and both satisfied, went to sleep.

 

The next morning, Armie woke quietly and prepared to go on his flight. He remembered warmly how Timothée had made love to him, he could still feel his body on him and in him. As he made breakfast, Timothée appeared and hugged him pressing against his back.

‘Morning darling, shall I finish making breakfast?’

Armie let him take over, he smelt warm and of their bed. He inwardly groaned not because he wanted to have sex but because of the warmth and familiarity of his body, the closeness he felt towards him, for the first time ever he didn’t want to leave.  He sat down.  He looked at Timothée with defeat in his eyes.  He was approaching forty, well his birthday was drawing near he was going to be thirty-six so not forty but getting to a stage where he had to be mature.

‘What’s the matter?’

Timothée brought over the toast and boiled eggs, he knew exactly how Armie liked the eggs, yolk hardly set and bright orange, he had a knack with them.  Tea was already on the table.  Armie liked British tea for breakfast, he moved onto coffee later in the morning when he needed a lift, he was particularly fond of Ceylon tea, particularly Twinings.  Timothée sat down with him, and started eating his breakfast.

‘Come on, speak.’

Armie just sat there, eyes wide and caressing Timothée with his eyes.

‘I’m gonna miss you so much.’

‘You’re getting maudlin in your old age…ha…ha…ha…’

‘I only now realise what I could have lost.’

Timothée held his hand over the table.

‘Oh baby…as you are in such a good mood, let me tell you something.’

‘OK, what is it?  I don’t feel like you are going to give me good news...what is it?’

‘I want to go back to work.’

Armie smiled the lizard smile.

‘You don’t mind?’

‘I do mind, because you won’t be at my beck and call.  I liked having you home, it was nice.  I knew where you were, you were dedicated to me, you did everything for me, for us.  Everything was organised.  I loved coming home, I knew you were waiting for me.  I also knew it couldn’t last…’

‘I like writing but…it’s not enough to write just for pleasure, I am losing motivation – if someone paid me and gave me a deadline it would force the situation. I need something to make me write, if I went back to work then, I am going to contradict myself, then I will be forced to write.  I don’t want to give it up but I need some structure and reason.  Does that make sense?’

‘Yes perfect sense baby, I know exactly what you mean.  I’m the same with the tests – I need to book those observation flights to give myself a deadline, I don’t want to waste my money.’

‘So I am going to ask Alan to add me to the schedule properly next month.  You have me to yourself, for another three weeks or so, depending on when he can drop me into the schedule.  What’s your calendar like?  I am not going to punish myself, I need to line up my schedule with you.  Your schedule is sorted for the next six weeks?’

‘Yes, look can we finish this conversation later?  I’ll facetime you.  I have to run otherwise I’ll be late.’

He got up to finish his packing and gathering his things for the flight, 30 minutes later he was ready to go.

‘Timmy, I’m going.’

Timothée left the kitchen area, they hugged and kissed goodbye, and Armie was gone.

 

Timothée went back to the kitchen, looked around for his notebook.  Making a decision and Armie going had brought something to the surface. He started to write.

 

The next two days were spent at the kitchen table, he had to force himself to go out for fear of developing cramp or thrombosis by sitting in one place for the whole day.  He didn’t know what had got into him, the words seemed to flow.  He was just happy that the characters had their story to tell and were speaking consistently and loudly.  He spoke to Armie at night, well it was night-time in Australia, he’d call about 1 in the morning, it was early morning in LA, Armie had him as an alert as well as old fashioned telephone bell. He never missed a call.

‘Hello baby, how’s things?’

‘Good, I’ve had a good day today.  The writing is really working.  How are things with you?’

‘Also good, I caught up some old friends.  I told you about them.  Richard and Summer.  I went to school with Richard…’

‘OK, I remember you talking about him, how was it?’

‘’Truthfully?’

‘Yes, truthfully.’

‘It was hard at first, they have been married seven years and they have two young children, we had Sunday lunch.’

Timmy remembered Armie was half a day behind him, it was early Monday morning in LA, and very late on Monday night in Sydney.

‘They brought the children, their life is so different. I felt somehow junior and I’m a year older than him.  Do you want children?’

It was a conversation they had never had.

Timmy didn’t know what to say, he hadn’t thought about it, truly he hadn’t considered it.

‘I don’t know Armie.’

‘I don’t know either…’

‘Do you think it something that you know you want to do?  I never felt the need to reproduce. I like children, but I don’t know about actually being responsible for another person, someone completely dependent on me.  Hmm…I need to think about this Armie.  What do you think?’

‘If I am honest, I think I do.’

‘Oh…How would that work?’

‘What do you mean how would that work? You know how babies are made.  Do you mean how would we care for a child?’

‘Both, cos you ain’t fucking anyone to get a child. It would have to be donor insemination.’

‘Does that mean you would consider it?’

‘I still have to think about it…’

 

‘What if you get your sister to donate eggs?’

‘What! What?  Ask Clare?’

‘Yes, ask Clare.  She doesn’t want children does she?’

‘No…’

‘If she donates, then both families get someone…Think about that.  Grandchildren in one fell swoop.’

‘What do you mean grandchildren?  How many children are you talking about?’

‘Two.  They can keep each other company, fraternal twins, my sperm, your sister’s eggs.’

‘Wait a minute…I don’t know how I feel about that, in fact I don’t need to think about it. No.’

‘No. what?’

‘No. I would not be happy to use Clare’s eggs. Makes me feel a bit sick.  Makes me think of you fucking her. No. We’ll have two, one mine one yours but surrogates. But first…we have to be married, I am not doing this unmarried.  We need to be settled Armie.’

‘We are settled.’

‘No we are not.  We are happy. That does not mean that we are settled.’

‘Did you just propose to me?’

‘I’m wearing your ring…you already proposed…or at least made clear what your intentions were…I was just waiting for you to wake up to what you had done. And no we haven’t spoken about it explicitly.  God, how are we still together.  Nobody listens.’

‘Shall we get married?’

‘Is the house big enough?’

‘What?’

‘Is that house big enough?  If there are two children and us, we definitely need a second bedroom, I can’t always sleep with you in the same bed.  We already know that.’

‘Fuck’s sake Timothée, we will share a bed when we have a family, that sleeping separately business will have to stop.’

Timothée make a mewl face.

‘You are too fucking hot. And we fight over the window being open.  You wake me up with yourself, I need peace and quiet, you are neither in bed.  And I like to sleep with nothing on and you moan about that too.’

‘I don’t moan about it, I only moan when you take advantage of me.’

‘You fucking love me taking advantage of you…oh, so now we are back to the no fucking thing.’

‘Jesus…’

Armie got up or he disappeared from the screen.

‘Where are you going?’

Armie was gone some time, but he did not close the app. Timothée held on.

When Armie came back, he looked sombre.

‘Do you want to get married or not?’

‘Instinctively? Yes.’

‘Why can’t you give me a straight answer?’

‘Because it is not simple.  Yes I want to spend the rest of my life with you but on what terms?  Are you going to spend the rest of your life on long haul? Am I going to become a house husband if we have children? Yes Armie, if we have children and we maintain this lifestyle, then something has to give.  Or, we hand over the childcare to a Nanny – I wouldn’t want that.’

‘Fuck’s sake, can we agree to something in principle? So long as we keep talking, we can work things through.’

‘It’s not that simple Armie, we can jump into agreement and find that actually we don’t agree. Like your idea of having Clare providing an egg, did you want her to carry the child as well? Do you see what I mean?’

‘I can’t think about this anymore, my brain is a bit overloaded. Can we talk about this when I get home? I need a little time to digest what we’ve spoken about and work out what I really want.’

Armie gave himself time. He didn’t want to be driven into a ill-considered conclusion. 

‘Goodnight Tim.’

The screen went black.

 

Timothée was in many ways Armie’s equal in understanding the dynamics of their relationship and what he needed to function happily within it.  Children was something he had not seriously considered, but now it was raised there was something that went to the centre of himself.  The fun aspect, a mini-me and then the serious one: a future, his family extended, an inheritance – he needed to talk to his parents, then to Armie’s parents.  This was not straightforward, he too had to digest and work out what he really wanted.

 

Belle started crying when he spoke with her over the phone, Timothée thought to prime her. His own mother merely said. ‘It’s about time.  Tell me when you get pregnant.’  Joseph shouted Mazel Tov from across the room.  Timothée and Armie visited Belle and Michael a few months later.  They had a few days in LA, they were in Armie’s house, and dinner had been eaten.

Over dinner, Armie started telling Belle and Michael about his friend and how he felt, tears welled in her eyes but she found a way of stopping the tears from rolling down her face – she got it straight away.

‘What do you want Armie?’

‘I don’t know – I think both of us are prepared to consider the idea of having children but we haven’t worked out how to manage the situation.  Timmy is going…has gone back to work and we need to see how we would actually manage this because really neither of us want to have a Nanny or someone else living with us…and…it’s not straightforward…and I don’t know if we even agree on how children should be brought up…he’s much more relaxed about manners and such things than me.’

Belle laughed. 

‘Armie, was anyone strict with you?  Did we tell you what to do?  We made sure you went to school and did your homework but other than that?  We only impressed on you that it was important to respect people and to thank anyone who helped you.’

Armie’s mouth closed and rolled in on itself.  He wanted to argue but he couldn’t.  His parents were as liberal as Timothée’s the only difference was that they had the luxury of money to help with some of the difficulties, they could afford to buy Armie distractions.  He was beginning to recognise this, the idea of parenthood was opening up his ability to objectively review his behaviour and his hard-held views.  He felt the familiar itch of embarrassment. His boyfriend was smirking.

Belle went on.

‘Did we say anything when you brought that boy back home?’

Armie winced, he tried to remember what he had told Timothée, was it girl at 15 boy at 18 or did he tell the truth, girl at 18, boy at 15.  He looked at his mother.  She guessed what he had told Timothée, boy at 18.  She continued to look meaningful at Armie who by turn was hot, red or sweating.  Michael curled his lip as he watched his son become more uncomfortable, he was thinking it served him right, he too knew what was going on in Armie’s mind.  He hadn’t minded Armie bringing the boy home, he minded that it took Armie so long to own his behaviour and to acknowledge what he really needed.

‘Why are you sweating you fucker?  You told me a lie, what was it?’

‘I don’t think it is appropriate to discuss this matter here.’

‘What matter is that Armie?  You slept with a boy at 15?’

Belle smirked.

‘You are always trying to convince me that you are a ‘nice’ boy.  I know you Armie, I knew you were lying. You have a tell, your right eye twitches.  You are all no fucks given but you cannot tell a lie.’

‘Well you’ve told me plenty and I never said anything.  How about you’re a virgin?’

‘You believed me.’

Belle and Michael sat there observing the interchange, they thought it best to keep out of this.  It could not be denied this was better than prime time television.

 ‘So this is how you are going to set an example as a parent?’

Their conversation began to come back to Armie, he had wanted to show empathy to Timothée, it was too late to backtrack. Best to try to stand his ground, give as good as he got.

‘You can fucking talk, you led me a merry dance when we were courting.’

‘We weren’t courting, we knew what we were as soon as we met.  I was just testing you to see how much you would take before you gave in.  Took me over a year…and you left me twice you fucker’

That shut Armie up.  It was the truth.  He smiled at Timothée, who smiled back.

They started eye fucking each other.

‘OK, time to go home.’


	27. Twenty-Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our two come to some agreement about their future.
> 
> This is fiction, I do not know them and as far as I know Armie has never flown a plane.

‘Timmy, I only have eighteen months to finish this course.’

‘Well you better get on with it.’

 

Once Armie had decided to take the conversion course, his timetable for the year was set, there was no point in taking his time and spreading out acquiring the theory elements of the course and if he had to do the theory in 18 months then by definition he had to put it to use within two years otherwise he would gave take some revision classes or simulator instruction.  He felt the pressure already.  He turned soft eyes to Timothée, who was anticipating reticence.

‘What?’

‘I am going to have my work cut out, don’t start moaning if I can’t go out or do my share in the house.’

‘You don’t do your share anyway.’

‘Wow! That’s not fair, I do my share.’

‘Yeah, what you call your share.  Consisting cooking and leaving the kitchen in a state.  Changing the bedclothes on your return so you can have fresh bedlinen.  Who does the housework and organisation around the place.’

‘But that is what we agreed…’

‘Yeah, you're right…’

‘Are you unhappy?’

Armie was greeted with thoughtful silence.

‘Well, now it’s upon us, I want to make sure you know how put upon I shall be feeling.’

‘I haven’t started yet.  And, how do you know what it’s going to be like.  The course starts in a month, give me a break.’

‘I Know?’

‘What is it Timmy, something is worrying you.’

‘How much time do you need to spend away?’

‘I have three exams to take and two sets of observation.  The first one will be 16th October, we spoke about that remember, the second observation will be at the end of the course.’

‘Who’s going with you? Are you going alone?’

Armie was nonplussed.

‘What do you mean, who is going with me?’  This did not make sense to him.  There was no one else who might come except for Timothée.

‘Who the fuck can come with me except you?’

‘I don’t know…’ Timothée trailed off, there was something on his mind that he was not being explicit about.

‘Baby if you don’t tell me what is going on, I don’t know either…’

Timothée turned hopeful eyes on him.

‘What is the matter now?’

‘I don’t know…’

Armie left it.  There was time, he wasn’t going anywhere.

 

‘So, are you coming with me to London Timmy?’

‘Yes.’

‘Still not saying what’s on your mind?’

Silence.

 

Later that night, Timmy crawled into his arms seeking comfort.

‘What is it baby?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Come on, you can tell me.’

‘I don’t know where I am.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘What do you want, tell me.’

‘I have so much with you, I don’t even know how to say it.’

Soft tears.  Not crying.  Just soft tears.

‘I want you so much.’

‘Oh baby.’

Armie began to caress his back, Timmy pressed a leg between his, lengthened it and got close.

‘Can you hold me.’

Armie kissed the side of his face between his hair and skin, he petted him, brushing his skin for comfort, Timothée held on as child, drawing close and giving himself up to Armie.  This was not sexual.

Armie tried to understand without words, it was a world where they did not need to express anything. He stilled and let Timmy rest within the circle of his care.

‘We have to make a decision.’

‘OK, what about Timmy?’

‘I have to make a decision.’

‘OK…what about darling?’

Armie waited.

‘What happens when you finish this course?’

‘uhmm….I don’t know.’

‘Why are you doing it?’

‘So we can spend more time together, so we have a home in LA, no more not knowing how much time we spend apart.’

‘But it’s not going to be like that is it?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘You are just swapping Melbourne for London or some other town in Europe.  When you change jobs, you go back to the bottom of the pile.  You have to take what you can get don’t you?’

Now Armie understood.

‘Well it is true that if I change jobs I have to work to get my seniority back, so I will have to take less favourable shifts or patterns. But it won’t like that all the time.’

‘How long?’

‘I don’t know Timmy, if I could answer that I would.  It’s going to depend on how much they need my skills.  If they are short of pilots with my experience of flying the 7 Series, then I’ll move up more quickly if they have a good supply or access to pilots with 7 Series experience then it will be a while.’

‘So you can’t tell me?’

‘No.  I haven’t worried myself about it – I’ve applied for a transfer to Virgin Atlantic, well I’ve sent my CV to Virgin Atlantic, and applied for the last pilot job that was advertised even thought I don’t fit the criteria – I’d need training on those A300 Series, those are the new long haul planes.  We talked about this, do you remember?  When I put the application in, you helped me with the personal statement.

I did speak with my old manager at Delta.  They are not advertising, but they are always hiring.  He might be able to put in a good word for me.  He’s done twenty years, flew in the military before then, he wants to retire, not saying I could replace him but I could relieve some of the pressure on those routes.’

‘Are we going to have children?’

‘What!’

‘Are we going to have children?’

‘Is this what is on your mind?’

‘Don’t answer with a question.  What do you want Armie? You aren’t young anymore, we have to think properly about this, how do we fit this in.  I don’t want to be an old Dad.  You’ve talked to me about it and I’ve decided.  I do want a family Armie.  And I don’t want to wait.’

Fuck.

‘Are we going to get married?’

Double Fuck.

‘I’ll ask again why are we doing this?  I get to spend more time with you, but we need to think about our future. We aren’t drifting, well we are drifting…we could carry on like this.  Are we just…what is this?’

As Timothée spoke Armie was trying to work out what he thought about all of this.  Timothée always had a way of stunning him into reality.

‘I mean, we could carry on like this, there’s nothing wrong with that.  We could do the childless, carefree couple, nothing to tie us down bit.  You could carry on flying for many years, I could travel with you, do a bit of writing or go and do customer relations and service improvement projects.  I don’t want that, I’d be doing it for something to do.  The writing is something to do as well - don’t get me wrong I can get more involved in that, I can do that when I get old, I’m not stopping that but it is not a full role, not for me. 

I am fulfilled, but I want to feel satisfied. 

Are you serious about children?  You’re serious, aren’t you?

I want to marry you Armie, I can’t see myself with anyone else. I don’t want anyone else, this is it.  I want you, I need you, I wear your rings you need to make good on them. 

By the time you finish all this training, you’ll be nearly forty.  You’ll be an old pilot… ha..ha..ha..ha..they are going to start keeping any eye on you, your ass is gonna doing medicals every year, well every two years, no more flaking…ha..ha…ha..ha..old…yeah

I’m nearly 30…you’re nearly 37…it’s time.’

Timothée was rambling, the thoughts didn’t join up but they were all of a piece.  Armie heard them, and mostly he agreed with what was said.  He did want children and whilst he had never voiced it and had always thrown off the suggestion, he knew that Timothée was his husband without the actual ceremony, and that he did not want anyone else nor did he think that anyone else would do.  He thought about the men out there, about the last time someone had tried to get him into bed, about the time he was in the bar with his colleagues on the last layover, they were in Hong Kong, he’d spent a long time away from Timothée. He was beginning to miss the sex, he missed how he smelt, his skin, even his whine.  The boy who had touched his hand and looked deeply into his eyes, a pretty younger version of Timmy, bold and direct, but he did not draw him, he knew immediately how much he stood to lose.  He was polite, ‘I have a boyfriend.  Sorry.’ He thought about the words then and now, ‘I have a boyfriend.’  Timothée was more than that, he was his life partner, they knew what they were to each other, he needed to put himself and Timothée out of the reach of others.  He knew that, he was working his way round to saying it.  Timothée had merely pre-empted him, he was ready.

‘I’ve started investigating surrogacy, there’s an agency that specialises in gay parents, but it costs $100k per cycle, for one baby…that’s expensive. We could look at IVF but that is less successful, and it might take four rounds to achieve a successful pregnancy.  I think we should aim for a double, we can get two eggs and each of us contribute sperm, but that means that we have to go for gestational surrogacy.  The embryos are implanted.  You know that story about Mother ‘M’ who wouldn’t hand back the baby?  If we go for gestational surrogacy we avoid the _Mom_ thinking the babies are hers.  There’s a waiting list – we have to go and find an egg donor, and you have to get a mortgage on the LA house.   We shouldn’t sell Melbourne, that way we will be resident in Australia until the end of the tax year - I know it’s only for earnings, and you can continue to offset the majority of your salary for tax purposes.  When you get the LA-Europe role, we can sell Melbourne and pay back the loan we need to take out on the house.  The loan to pay for all of this is going to cost you around $1500 per month.  I can take care of all of the paperwork, you just have to tell me what you are looking for in the egg donor – colour of hair, education, jewish or not jewish etc etc.  What do you think?

‘Come Here.’

‘Marriage has to be on the cards, Armie…’

‘Come Here.’

‘I can’t get pregnant…no point in fucking me…’

A Timothée giggle, he hadn’t heard it in the longest time.

‘Come here you fucker.’

‘You’re flying later this morning…It’s late, you’re old…let’s wait…’

‘I can fuck you once.  I’ll make it good, you won’t regret it. Come Here’

Timothée’s adam’s apple bobbed in his throat, he hadn’t seen that look in a long time.  It normally meant that Armie was going to keep him up a long time.

‘Are you sure you don’t want to sleep?  We’ve had an intense conversation.  You normally go off to sleep….Armie!  Armie!...ha…ha…ha…ha…Let go of me…baby let’s sleep, we can fuck in the morning…Armie…Armie…oh God…’

Armie had taken his cock directly in his hand.  The hand was hot, the cock started responding immediately. Armie pulled on it, drawing Timothée towards him, he had no choice but to follow.  Timothée was making rough soft noises in his throat, his cock grew hard and now swung freely only bound by Armie’s hand.  The hand continued working for a while, stroking pressing pulling and caressing, Armie watched his face soften until he rolled onto his back and pushed the covers down.

‘Take off your clothes…’

‘It’s been a long time Armie…’

Timothée turned his wide green eyes on him, he was older but the response to Armie had never wavered he was always overwhelmed by him.

‘Raise your ass…pass that pillow…’ He was on his back, the pillow raised his ass giving perfect access.

Armie had laid between his legs, started to kiss and lick his ass, he kissed the crease underneath, he kissed his hole spread his tongue across, used a hand to make it more accessible, above him Timothée remained lying on his back and had placed one hand over his face his eyes were closed, his mouth open, as Armie caressed the current centre of his being with his mouth he felt like he had gone into some other place, his back dipped a lovely hollow, his body no longer belonging to him. Armie licked across to his taint, started to kiss that space underneath him and roughly use his tongue, sucked a ball into his mouth, tasted it like he was eating it savouring it like it was the best thing he had ever eaten, slurping tongue swirling in recognition of both their pleasure, found the seam, twirled his tongue around the tessellated skin, sucking in enjoyment.  He possessed Timothée who took his dick into his hand and started to stroke it.  He couldn’t help himself, he started to vocalise, murmuring Armie’s name, soft sounds, groaning, moaning, growling the noise rolling through his body. 

Armie’s licks now rose up his body, flicked a nipple which unfolded under a tongue, the tongue gathered the areola swished the darker skin Armie pressed his body flat a gasp he could feel Armie’s hardened length, a solid presence indication of how much he wanted him, liquid rolling on his stomach, a leg came between his, he sought union, he wanted to feel like Armie had enveloped him.

‘Come baby.’

Timothée’s arms came around Armies body drawing him into a kiss, Armie rolled over him between his legs, spread him, removed his hand, dick at his hole and pushing into him, no matter how many times they fucked there was always surprise as Armie entered his body, they looked into each other’s eyes, so personal, so private that moment when their bodies came together, Armie rose above him the better to completely enter him, Timothée’s legs fell apart the better to give Armie complete access to that inner part of him that only belonged to Armie, the only person who could give him an orgasm without touch just from fucking, a mixture of physicality and the pure joy of being with someone who understood him mind body and soul.

Armie recognised that this was a special moment and paused, kissed Timothée gently, bit his lip sucked the lip til it was red and full, a tongue tasting what it already knew and wanted, he stilled his body now in full possession of Timothée and kissed him deeply, Timothée groaned into his mouth sighed and pressed him closer, he began to fuck Timothée gently and maintaining eye contact he rolled his body so it forced Timothée’s body into complete openness no barriers and Timothée cradled him, lifting his hips begging for deeper contact with him, and Armie instinctively gave it to him. He began to deeply fuck Timothée, time began to stand still and moments passed…Armie checked in with Timothée – it’s time… their bodies began to roil together in urgency…melting, tensing, stillness, and then relaxing into orgasm…tears and peace and love.


	28. Twenty-Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life speeds up. There's some normal stuff and then there are major changes. The beginnings of a family, Armie and Timmy have to adjust to a whole new world.
> 
> This is fiction, I do not know them, and as far as I know Armie does not know how to fly a plane.

Time sped up, Armie was busy.  He enrolled on the course, got the books and received his study pack and other course materials, he also had to create an account, log on to the college website so that the enrolment process could get underway.  He had to attend an enrolment session so that he could prove he had the qualifications and who he was, most colleges insisted on some kind of face to face meeting to prevent fraud and preserve the safety of passengers. Once enrolled he could join group discussions and online tutorials.  The flying school used a centre in Orlando for exams and administration, he’d have to spend more time in the US, make use of his extended layovers and his annual leave.  He found it exciting, he had a project and he had a deadline.  It was energising.

His head was constantly in a book or paper when he was home, Timothée gazed upon him, not quite redundant but certainly not the main focus.  He was contemplating making a fuss and decided it was worth it.

‘You never pay any attention to me.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Your head is always in a book, you don’t take me out and you don’t talk with me.’

‘That’s not true, a couple of weeks ago we went to Fred’s, you enjoyed that, didn’t you?’

‘I couldn’t drink.’

‘Because you said you would drive, we could have got an Uber.’

‘It was like home cooking, I’ve made better steak.’

Armie sighed and got up from the desk in the single room, which he now used as a proper study.  Timothée was standing in the door way.

‘Come here baby, I miss you too, I’m home and I’m not really paying attention to anything. You do all my chores, all the domestic things.  Come here.’

He hugged him close.  Timothée put his arms around him and placed his head on Armie’s neck.

‘I feel like I never see you, you are here and then you shut yourself up in here. The music is going, it’s like you keep me away from yourself.

Armie just held him, for a very long time.  He whispered sweet things in his ear, how much he loved and appreciated him, how he would make sure that they spent quality together, and how sorry he was to have taken so long to realise how unhappy he was; finally and not least, he promised him sensational sex.

‘OK, that’s enough.  I’ve had my fill of you and I am going to hold you to that last thing especially.  You can go back to your books now.’

Armie had made note, he would make a point of spending some part of the day just concentrating on Timothée, it wouldn’t be a hardship.  Timothée was used to him being around, even if he wasn’t directly communicating with him he was present and easily distracted by conversation or something to eat or a walk, just needed something that brought him directly within touching distance of Timothée other than sex.  The sex thing was easy and no hardship, he was beginning to miss their sexual closeness, it was something to be valued and not easily given up.

After a couple of months of studying, they both got used to the different regime and adjusted, it also taught them a little bit about what it would be like to have share their company and the need to maintain separateness. Normally, they spent a lot of time by themselves, Armie was home for the equivalent of a couple of weeks a month and some months he was at their other home in LA, so they were even more separated.  Timothée could get cheap flights, sometimes free flights via Armie but he also began to tire of their lifestyle, the constant travelling and having to traverse two continents, mostly missing Armie and having to work with his irregular schedule. Armie was flying a mixture of what he called commuting, ie LA-Melbourne or LA-Sydney and, the longer schedules where he went from Melbourne to LA, back to Melbourne, then onwards to Hong Kong or Shanghai, back to Melbourne and then completing the tour back to LA.  When he did the combined schedules , he only got two nights in each port, it was tiring and he couldn’t settle, he might get ten days at home afterwards, but that might be in LA and Timothée was based in Sydney. Timothée wanted to settle in LA.  One night at dinner, he tried to speak to Armie their plans for a family.

‘Don’t you think it’s time?  For us to look into a surrogacy?’

Armie stilled, he wasn’t ready.  It wasn’t just the idea of fatherhood it was all the paraphernalia of getting someone pregnant, there was a whole process and legal considerations to take care of.  He had enough on his plate.

‘All you have to do is come with me to the clinic and jack off into a test tube.’

‘Really? That simple?  How about arranging the mortgage and signing my life away for the next umpteen years, and the responsibilities of children and finding time to be involved with them, still studying and paying for _everything._ ’

‘You don’t have to do anything apart from that.  I will take care of everything. This is going to be my project for the next six months.  I think it will take me that long to sort everything out.  You’re gonna have to give me power of attorney, so I can sign papers on your behalf. That’s a Specific Power of Attorney, we can get it set up so that I can only deal with the mortgage, and can’t sell the house…ha…ha…ha…ha…hmm might have to also look at how we get the surrogacy set up.  I think you probably have to be involved for that.  We def have to do that in America, there is a good place in Palm Springs that can deal with the paperwork and the actual insemination.’

Armie winced at the word insemination.

‘What are you making that face for, you aren’t going to fuck anyone. So it has to be insemination.  Anyway, I’ll get some papers and we can start looking at this next time you are back here.  I might have to move there though, we should think about what we are going to do about this apartment.  If it is only you here, this is too big we can save some money and get you something smaller, you can ask for schedules which are just direct LA-Melbourne or LA-Sydney, so that you can be in LA more and avoid those long stints of flying, like the one you just did to Hong Kong and Shanghai. You gotta change how and where you fly Armie.  That is for now and the future, your schedules have to be simpler, LA-Melbourne only perhaps, then you won’t have to pay for any accommodation and keep the per diem. Or only stay where the airline puts you up that way we would save even more money, we could continuing renting out Melbourne and get back some money.

Armie was shrinking inside, he had so much to consider and manage, he might not have to do any work but he was going to have to adapt and he didn’t like change, his life was perfect and Timothée was here causing disruption.

‘A different type of face?  You don’t like the change?

What are you going to do when you have change jobs? Or, start looking after children? Or move from Sydney to Melbourne, come on what did you thing was going to happen?  That we would click a finger and everything would be sorted? 

Come on baby, not gonna lie it’s not going to be easy, but the change is going to be worth it.’

Armie decided to call his Mom and Esther, he had to talk it through with someone else, he might talk to Sylvie and Frank as well, then he wondered who else he might talk to?  He needed to talk to someone of his own age with children, he wondered if he knew any gay couples who had recently had children.  He’d go through his address book.  He had to talk this through with people who were older and more sensible, but he didn’t mean that in a derogatory way, he meant someone who came from a position of experience and knowledge of the things Timothée was discussing.  Timothée was able to work things out for himself and trusted his own judgement, Armie was learning that he needed an objective view, he trusted Timothée but these were big lifechanging decisions.  He couldn’t depend on their combined reasoning in matters such as this.

He fixed his face and just said: ‘Yes baby, it is gong to be worth it, just give me to time to work this through in my mind.  I might talk to Mom and Esther, I can’t do this on my own.’

Timothée wondered if he should feel insulted, then decided that actually Armie was not wrong, he also needed to talk things through, he knew that what he was proposing was essentially a sensible way of approaching this sensitive issue but others might be able to add some thought and suggest other things that he may not have considered or overlooked.  He decided to leave Belle and Esther to Armie, he’d speak to Michael.  And he would do that tomorrow when Armie had gone to the gym.  He wasn’t concealing anything he just wanted to have a quiet word with someone he respected and cared about, someone who had some emotional investment in the project.

 

‘Hey Michael, how are you?  I’ll be straight with you.  I want some advice about how we go about starting a family.’

Michael laughed. 

‘Really Timothée, what do you mean?  Do you want me to tell you how you make babies?’  He thought that was funny. And laughed heartily. Timothée bided his time, kept silent and waited for Michael to settle and listen to him. The seriousness of the situation came to Michael:

‘What do you need?’

‘Just some of your thoughts.  Look, we are think of taking out a mortgage on the LA property to pay for the cost of the surrogacy.  It’s going to cost about two hundred grand Michael, but that would just be for a short while perhaps a year and then we sell Melbourne to cover the costs or most of the costs.  What do you think?’

‘Why didn’t you ask us for a loan?’

‘Can’t do that Michael, you have helped us so much, no, wouldn’t ask that of you.  That is one thing that I made Armie promise, we have so much already, we can manage financially, I just want to tap into your experience.  Do you think it would be a good idea for me to have power of attorney for the management of the mortgage?’

Now Michael was concerned, he trusted Timothée but thought if it concerned a house that Timothée did not yet have any investment in then it would probably be best if he or Belle held the power of attorney.  He didn’t think this had occurred to Timothée, he was sensible but sometimes too naïve to understand a thing like this.

‘What did Armie say about this?’

‘He is going to talk to Esther and Belle.’

‘hmmm…in fact I think it might be a good idea if we all got together to discuss this, and I mean your Mom and Dad, Bell and I. Would you mind if we did that?  Can you tell Armie that for me.  Don’t do anything just yet.  I want to understand how we can manage this together or perhaps even help you so that you don’t have to manage it all yourselves.

When are you getting married?’

Now it was time for Timothée to think.  He knew they were going to get married but he didn’t know when.  And he realised that this was a family issue, all the things they had been talking about as a couple were actually things that concerned the wider family.  So many considerations and now he realised that it might not be appropriate for him to have power of attorney, he wasn’t married to Armie, he was just the boyfriend.

 

‘Armie, I’m just your boyfriend, we have to get married.’

What the fuck was he talking about now.  Armie’s head popped up out of his book.

‘Yes, we talked about it, you are not just my boyfriend – we are much more than that. We’ll get married in due course, what’s the problem?’

‘I can’t have power of attorney.  I am just your boyfriend, I might run off with your house. It’s your house, it’s not my house.’

‘It’s not my house either, I never signed the papers.’

‘What!’

Timothée turned round and walked out of the room, he wanted to fucking hit him.  He got to the bedroom, sat on the bed fuming.  Armie followed him in.

‘What difference does it make?’ He knew but this was his way of heading towards an apology.

Timothée couldn’t yet speak.  He sat there simmering.

Armie put his arm around him, and started kissing his neck.

‘Are you cross with me baby…ooh…come on baby…it will be alright…’

‘Armie we need to mortgage the house to raise money for the surrogacy.’

All thought of studying left Armie.  He could see there was a problem now, what if his parents didn’t agree?

‘Did your parents say that you could definitely have the house Armie?’

‘Of course, you were there.’

‘Why haven’t you signed the papers?’

‘Well I kept meaning to pick them up, and I just never did. They are still in a drawer somewhere.’

Timothée slapped him up the side of his head, not very hard just enough to make him realise that he had made a mistake.  He clamped his teeth together making a very stern face and squeezed Armie’s head between his palms, to shake it, to make the point that he did not know how his brains operated, after all this time, Armie could still make him wild.  He tried to push him down.

‘Want to play rough…’

Armie pinned him down with one hand.

‘Now I am going to fuck you. Regard this as part of the promise I made earlier.’

The thrill of being pinned down went straight to Timothée’s heart, crossness transferring over into anticipation and sexual desire, the crossness was fading and growing quickly into lust.

‘Get off me, don’t…Armie…uhh…oh Lord…’

The dick was stiffening.

‘Don’t what?’

Armie held his arms above his head, he no longer pinned him down, he held the arms with just one hand and used the other to brush roughly over Timothée’s dick.  Armie started using his palm to rub the fat tip.  Timothée started to bite his lip to prevent any sound escaping, sound showed that he was enjoying this treatment. He didn’t want to give Armie the satisfaction.

‘Stop it Armie, please…don’t…oh fuck…’

‘Am I hurting you?’

Armie undid the trouser. Pulled the trouser open, pushed a hand inside the boxer and started caressing Timothée’s cock.

‘I’m going to undress you.  Don’t hit me.’

Timothée didn’t hit him, but he grabbed handfuls of hair and pulled.

‘You fucker…’

Armie loosened Timothée’s hands from his hair, threw him off, straddled him, and began to roughly strip off his clothes, stopped and looked at him, he wanted to gauge if he was really enjoying this or was really distressed.  Timothée’s eyes were black and locked on his, he lifted his hips, splaying his legs. Armie smirked and sat on the hardening dick, rubbed his ass downwards and dragged the pants off, ripped the shirt off, buttons were flying, the shirt tore, the trouser zip was broken.  Armie pushed him back down on the bed, dragged his legs, so Timothée’s ass was on the edge of the bed, grabbed his legs and roughly pulled them apart, the dick was thinking about standing on end, moving of it’s own accord, it was getting very hard.

‘Stay there. Don’t move.’

Armie stood over him, took off tracksuit bottoms, he had nothing else on, apart from a t-shirt, his cock was in a similar state, he stroked it so it became hard, hard enough to stick out.  He pulled off the t-shirt.  Timothée was licking his lips and sat up.

‘Who said you could sit up?’

‘…Let me suck it.’

‘No, get on your knees. It’s a long time since I fucked you ass up…That’s it…hmm…let me look at you…’

He took in the sight, that lovely ass, that forgiving hole…

Armie’s breath began to hitch, his breath caught in his throat, he couldn’t swallow for looking, his throat was dry, it felt like there was hot air rising out of his chest. Then Timothée undid him.

Timothée threw him a look over a shoulder, his eyes were still black, a rim of green framed the pupil.

Armie grunted, a deep hum was coming from somewhere in his body, he spread Timothée’s legs, and pressed the pad of a thumb across his hole, he was looking forward to this,

Timothée was shivering, he only shivered when he very excited, the pre-come was very fluid, great drips were falling off the end, he had his cock in his hand pulling it, caressing and twisting it between his fingers. His ass was clenching already, wanting to absorb the thumb which Armie turned in, sliding it, promising to enter the soft pink flesh, he got on his elbows to widen his hole, elongating and dipping his back.

‘Push it in baby.’

‘Wait...’

Armie got some lube and smeared the tip of his cock, fondled it roughly made it really hard, hard enough so that he would come quickly. He brushed Timothée’s ass with his dick to let him know the dick was approaching, slid the dick against his hole and pushed it in so that only an inch or so was pressed inside. Timothée gave a breathy sound and spoke:

‘…yeah baby, give it to me’

‘You can wait.’

Armie used his large palms to cup Timothée’s ass and held him brushing downwards, and holding his ass apart and began pushing further inside, two inches in and Timothée was groaning very loudly.  Armie began laughing silently, his lover was so far gone.

‘Does it hurt?’

‘No Armie…I want you so fucking much…’

‘Why are you making so much noise…groaning and such like…no fucking complaining tomorrow about how I fucked you and hurt you.  OK?

‘Armie baby, please, I can’t stand it…please…’

His whole body squeezed on Armie’s dick, it made Armie jump.  That was fucking hot.  He began fucking him in earnest.  Not just in and out, swaying his body, pressing in as far as he could and lastly just grinding to get as far inside Timothée as he could.  The noise from Timothée was unlike anything he had ever heard.

‘..Baby…I‘m gonna come.’

‘Shut up, you better not!’

Timothée whimpered, ‘Oh Armie…’

Armie pulled out.

‘Lie down.’

Armie’s intention was to give Timothée a deep orgasm, a prostrate orgasm if he could, he knew he had to get right on top of him: however long it took, whatever it took and if it took longer than straight fucking he would achieve it.

Armie pulled Timothée’s cock straight out…rolled it in his hand…his large hand like a cushion encompassed it…sucked it…kissed him…alternated sucking and kissing…and then rolled him back onto his stomach.

He tried several variations of position until he felt Timothée begin to lose control, he was whining, whimpering, making a sound similar to crying, his body becoming more open and relaxed except his ass which began to tighten.   Armie covered his body, and began to roll his ass systematically.  The dick hardly left the hole.

‘…oh baby…that’s it…yeah…fuck…hmm…hsss…don’t stop baby…’

When Timothée came he could not help it, he just had to let his body do what it wanted, the orgasm rolled down internally, rippling like a whole body orgasm…he was incapacitated, there was nothing he could do except lie back and enjoy it.

Armie waited, very still, while Timothée was non compos mentis, quite literally not there. Armie’s dick was literally being sucked rhythmically, deep within Timothée’s body.  He was smug.  He did that.

He spoke softly: ‘You OK baby? Tell me when you want me to pull out.’

‘Wait a moment babe…Christ…not ready…don’t go yet…I still need to feel you.’

He was right, his whole body was still beating.

Some moments later, they separated and Armie gathered Timothée into his arms.   He’d done what he’d promised. He’d fix himself later. He had very much enjoyed making love to Timothée, it was a celebration borne out of adversity.  He reminded himself how much he loved him, and he told him.

‘I love you, I will never hurt you and even when we have children, you will always be my first priority.  Never forget that.’

 

Michael didn’t waste time, Esther rang Timothée the next day.

‘When did you think to tell us what you planned? Don’t you think you should have spoken with your father and I first before you made any firm decisions?  We could have helped you.’

‘OK, OK, what exactly are you talking about Mom?’

‘Your plans to fund the surrogacy.’

‘Oh.’

‘Yes, oh. It’s not your house how could you think that it was going to be possible to take control of the house like that…’

Timothée jumped in before she could say anything else.

‘What did Michael say?’

‘That you were going to take out a Specific Power of Attorney which would allow to you to manage the mortgage.’

Michael hadn’t lied.

‘Well how else are we going to afford it?’

Esther was silent.

‘You can’t afford to give us a quarter of a million dollars.

Armie has assets that we can use, he doesn’t mind if I manage everything, in fact that is what he is relying on.  He’s studying, I have more time than him.’

Armie took the phone from him.  Timothée flashed an annoyed face at him.

‘Esther?  Listen some of this is my fault, I haven’t had the house transferred over to me, if I had we wouldn’t be having this conversation because we would have just done it.  Now it is going to be a problem as I don’t own the house….

I’ve apologised to Timothée, a lot of this is of my making….

I’ll have to talk to my father…

Yes, Timothée told me he had spoken to him about the power of attorney.  I trust him, he won’t run off with the house or any money…

hmm…I just have to persuade my parents that I know what I am doing…

Look can I ask your advice?  Have you deal with gay couples or parents seeking surrogacy – I want to talk you generally about this, can I come up and see you?  Without Timothée?

Yes…I know…I don’t expect you to talk to me about us, I just want an objective view…

OK…OK…I understand…

Let me get a pen…

Timothée pass me that pen please…the notepad…thanks.

OK, I’m ready now, give me the details…’

 

‘Timothée let me talk to Pa…I’ll sort it out…’

Armie put his studying to one side for the best part of a couple of weeks, by the end of the month and his next scheduled flight, meetings had been set up with the surrogacy clinic and the bank, Armie’s parents had Fedex’d the house papers and he sent them back by return.  They gave notice on the apartment, and gave the tenants notice on the Melbourne flat, it made more sense for them to move there, Armie was still within reasonable distance should he get called to pilot a plane from ether Sydney or Melbourne, which was a requirement of his contract and Timothée could manage the commute when he flew into Sydney.  As far as they could they tried to get their schedules set up so that LA became their de facto base.

Armie heard back from Virgin they didn’t really have any roles that allowed him to live in LA and use that as his base, he had to be in London or remain in Australia, he kind of knew that, each carrier had a base in the country where the airline was registered. They could flex his schedule but ultimately those would have to be his bases.  He decided to concentrate on American carriers and made contact with his old flying buddy at Delta.  His mentor put him in touch with someone who was the same age and could act as his new flying buddy, luckily this man, Nick Dejong had children.  Armie thanked God, things seemed to be working out.  If he did get a job a Delta he needed someone that he could learn from and this Nick seemed to be the best of all worlds.  He knew that if he made a good impression on this man he stood a good chance of at least getting a chance to talk to someone who might see him and give him an opportunity to try out for Delta. He submitted a CV on a let’s see how this goes basis, and waited.

Within a week he was called, Delta shared some routes with Virgin in America, and someone had passed on a good word about him, it looked like he was in, perhaps not immediately but he crossed his fingers and hoped that by the time he was ready to fly in London, something like a full-time post would come available.  He made contact with Nick, they agreed to meet in Rolling Hills, Armie was trying a keto diet, he booked The Original Red Onion Restaurant, a Mexican restaurant that was diet friendly, Nick was easy going and didn’t mind where he ate.   They sat down together at 6.00pm, neither wanted a late night, Nick had to get back to his kids for their bedtime and Armie just wanted to have a quick meet to see if he actually liked him first before inviting Nick and wife round to the house.  They settled on a shared plate, salad, guacamole, refried beans, no fries and no flour based products, Nick was watching his diet too, a good sign.

‘How old are your girls?’

‘Five and seven.’

‘Seven, you started early.’  Armie gave a little smile to soften the rudeness.

‘Yes well it was kind of expected. We got married when I was twenty five.  Her parents started nagging Callie about grandchild a year after the wedding, we managed to get a couple of years to ourselves before we started seriously thinking children, Hannah was born when I was 28, and Grace came along more or less two years later.  Callie’s a couple of years older than me, she didn’t really want to waste time.’

‘My partner and I are thinking about children, just working out the logistics, it’s tricky isn’t it?’

‘Yes, Callie is a teacher, luckily her Mom is close so she has the children now they are in school, Callie took a couple of years off to look after them when they were babies, she has been back at work a year.  She’s finding it hard, that’s partly why I don’t like to stay out too late.

So Armie, why do you want to come and work for Delta?’

‘Should I treat this like an interview?’

Nick laughed. ‘No. Sorry that was a poor way of opening up the conversation, what I really mean is I don’t understand why you would move from Virgin, they are one of the best carriers and they treat their staff well, what gives?’

Armie wondered how much he should tell him.  He _was_ being interviewed, they had both come to pick each others brains, to work out if Armie would be a good fit for the team.  He was honest but evasive.

‘Well my parents downsized and bought a condo, I live in their old house when I’m here, I want to be near them and my partner’s parents are in Las Vegas, so it’s a good base for both of us.  It’s probably time for us to be in one place with easy access to all of our family, and it also means that if I want I can change my base again later on…we could try living in London perhaps.  Have you worked there?’

‘No.  I prefer being based in California, we aren’t in LA we’re near Long Beach, a place called Lakewood. About half and hour away, all our family is there, we need their help.’

Armie knew it, suburbia_ville.  Timothée wouldn’t like it.  He kept his counsel, things began to click.

‘It’s not as nice as where you are Armie, your family are very _lucky_.’

For lucky mean rich, Armie was used to this, as soon as he mentioned Rolling Hills, everyone thought he was rich.

‘Hard work by my Pa.  He’s the one that has provided for his family, I’m lucky because of him, it’s the family house, my brother lives near, he’s a patent engineer, he’s done very well and his wife is in the same business – so same, hard work makes good luck.’

Armie hoped he wasn’t being too shitty, but really he was beginning to get a feeling about Nick and it wasn’t good.

‘Your daughters have interesting names, how did you choose them?’

‘Oh you noticed, they are biblical.’

The back of Armie’s neck flushed, he was right. Possibly a right wing Christian, this was going to be difficult.

‘So you chose them specifically…I thought they might be family names.’

‘They are those as well, my wife’s family are very closely involved with our local church, the Alliance at Long Beach. I don’t go as often as I should, but the children are being brought up to go to church and follow religious principles, it will stand them in good stead, I want them churched, it’s important to my family as well. Quite simple really, teach them to value everyone and to treat everyone pleasantly and fairly, that’s so important don’t you think?’

‘Yeah, the scales fall off peoples’ eyes and other people get treated like shit.’

Armie stared him out.

Nick was equanimous.

‘Sometimes Christians are perceived to be judgemental.  I am not going to judge you Arnie, we might have different approaches to life, but you know how it is on a flight deck, you never know who you are going to get scheduled with, so best to keep an open mind and your mouth shut.  Your partner is male, right?  I don’t agree with your choice but I know love is love, I can tell that you are in love, you show that in your very being when you talk about him.  I understand that, I love my wife, I would do anything for her, it’s only right.  If you feel so strongly about him, you are doing the right thing, make your situation right for both of you. I don’t have anything else to say on the matter. Shall we have another drink?  I’ll have something soft, you may want a beer?’

He was right.  Armie understood why he had been chosen to talk to him. There would be lots of things they couldn’t agree on, but they had to be able to manage a working relationship.  He relaxed and decided to disarm Nick with a modicum of charm rather than try to make a point.  He sat back.

‘Look, can I ask you something? How did you decide where to send them to school and what age did you send them?  I have to start thinking about these things, I want children and know nothing about schooling, what to look for and how to choose them. What’s important?’

Nick saw what he was doing, and accepted the challenge. 

‘Whoa…you are jumping ahead…what’s your view on how they should be brought up?...You’ll have a lot to consider before you even get to schooling.’  He laughed gently, out of experience.

They chatted easily for an hour, split the bill and arranged to meet again when Armie was back in California.  It was a start, not perfect and certainly not ideal, compromise had to be made. Armie realised he had been very lucky with his Australian work colleagues, they had not batted an eyelid when he announced who his partner was, he realised that he might have a very different reaction with some American crews, he was going to have face some homophobia, he might not run into it very often but there was a guarantee that he would have to deal with it at some point.  He had to learn how to deal with it and he had to talk about it with Timothée.

 

‘Let’s get married this weekend.’

‘LOL, that is the same as asking me to move in with you. No.’

‘Come on, I’ve already got the licence, it will be quick.’

Timothée looked at him closely. He meant it.

‘Have you spoken to your parents? What about my Mom and Dad?’

‘Your Mom and Dad’ll be our witnesses.’

‘It’s not right Armie.’

‘No, it isn’t but it’s what I want. And it will make it easier to sort out the house and the surrogacy, it might even help with our scheduling we can ask for joint scheduling.’

Armie was not lying.

‘…I’ll think about about it…I’m not sure Armie…it seems wrong…I wanted to do it in front of all of our family and friends.’

‘We can still do that, this is for legal purposes so that nobody can question what we want to give each other…we can live together in peace in one place, and make arrangements for the children without any fear.’

A day later.

‘OK.’

‘OK what?’

‘OK, let’s get married.  Have you told Mom, I mean Esther?’

‘Yes… she wants us to have a mini honeymoon in the MGM, she’s paying.’

‘OK.’

‘I’ve booked for 11.00am on Friday at the Los Angeles county registrar's office, we’ll drive up to Las Vegas, have a very late lunch at the Bellargio, your parents will go home, and we’ll spend two nights at the MGM, fucking.’

‘You’re incorrigible!’

‘Yes. I am…I tell you what…let’s ask Esther and Belle to be witnesses and get Pa and Joseph to join us.  Would that make you feel better?’

‘Yes Armie, thank you.’ He paused.

‘When did you book this Armie…’

Armie just smiled.

 

‘What are you wearing?’

‘Does it matter?’

Timothée gave Armie the look. 

‘You can’t wear those shoes with that suit…’

Armie paid heed.

‘OK, let’s go shopping.  Where are we going?’

They were surrounded by packing cases but had not yet packed anything, the wardrobe door was open, Armie had been standing in front of it pulling out items for Timothée to approve.  A nod meant it was coming with them, a frown and the item was consigned to the black bag on the floor.  An old navy suit, not very worn but very out of fashion was in Armie’s hands – he thought it might do.  He had a good pair of shoes on, on the shoes he was determined, they would not be thrown out.

Timmy pulled up the iPad, he logged onto the Beverly Centre website, looked up men’s fashion, didn’t like anything he saw. Started looking at Italian designers, he had an idea of what he wanted.  He’d buy, Armie would have to wear it.  His man was going to look just how he wanted.

‘Give me your measurements.’

Armie raised an eyebrow.

‘Let me measure you.  Where’s the tape?’  He got up, went and looked in the kitchen drawer, found what he was looking for.

‘Come here darling…take off your clothes…’

‘I don’t need to take off my clothes…just measure me.’

Timothée was giving him a look.  He took off the light jumper he was wearing and his pants, he stood in boxers and a white singlet.

‘I thought this was about measuring for a suit?’

‘It is.  Lift your arms.’

Timothée stood very close to him. Measured his broad chest.

‘I love your chest, it is so broad – I can barely get my arms round you, so strong and fit.’

Armie softened.

Timothée dropped his hands. Placed one on Armie’s waist and walked around him.

‘Let me measure your back. 

Everytime I see you naked, I think how lucky I am.  Armie you are gorgeous.  You know that, don’t you?’

He brushed his hand across Armie’s back, kept it there caressing it, brought it up to his neck and down his spine, cupped his ass and squeezed it, put it back onto his waist, held him firmly and brought the hand down under his ass.

‘That ass..it’s like a hard sponge…sucks up everything…’

Armie began to feel slightly aroused.

‘Timothée…’

‘You have the figure of a Greek God, your neck is like that on a statue…supple…smooth…’

Timothée measured his back, shoulder to shoulder, and then took a finger and with the tip started stroking the nape of his neck, stood close so he could feel his body heat. When Armie shifted slightly towards him, he measured from the nape of his neck down to his waist.

‘Are you writing this down?’

Timothée laughed, there was a sly look on his face.

‘I forgot.  I’ll have to do them again…there’s some paper down there, get it for me baby.’

He spoke tenderly.

‘I’d fucking tap that…’ 

His words were hardly coherent, Armie heard a soft mumbling, the kind of sound he got when he had Timothée underneath him in bed.

Timothée had made him bend down to fetch a piece of photocopying paper from the bottom shelf of the bookcase, he felt himself, squeezed his dick so it was prominent but not hard. He was going to rub himself against Armie when he got close.

Armie noticed what had happened to his body.

‘What did you do?’

‘Nothing.  Come here let me measure you again.’

Armie obeyed, this time Timothée finished by letting his cock brush Armie’s leg.

‘Stand with your legs apart I am going to measure your legs.’

Armie began to anticipate, his body was beginning to react to Timothée’s teasing.  He held the tape at one side, at his waist, Timothée bent over to take the measurement leading down to his ankle, brushing his ass against Armie’s leg as he bent his knees to crouch down. He wrote down the measurements, then moved off to the other side of Armie, Armie pulled him into his front, and pressed himself against Timothée’s ass.

‘Do you like that baby?’

Timothée’s eyes were like saucers, he began to wonder if he had bitten off more than he could chew, he just wanted to tease Armie, Armie was ready to fuck him by the feel of him and he was grinding his dick into Timothée’s ass.  Armie was softly groaning, had opened his mouth on Timothée’s neck and his tongue was tasting him, he wasn’t licking he was eating him up.

‘Just let me measure your inside leg baby.’

‘Quick, I’m hard and I’m wanna fuck you, you started this and I’m gonna finish you.’

Timothée held his gaze, pulled down Armie’s boxers and started sucking.  He looked up, and took the dick out of his mouth. Armie’s head had gone back, and now came forward to gaze at his lover, he placed his hands gently on Timothée’s head.  Timothée took the inside leg measurements, he slid the tape under Armie’s balls, stretched the tape down one leg then the other, an impressive 35”, he would need to order either 36” or 37” inseam.

‘Impressive.’

Armie’s dick was hard and beading.

He stood up, and moved off.

‘Where are you going?’

‘To order the suit.  What did you think I was going to do?’

Timothée got pulled back.

 

Sometime later, he ordered an Ermenegildo Zegna suit together with a white shirt and black tie, it was perfect, a black brocade jacket and black matching trousers, he nearly cried when Armie tried it on.  He covered the mirrors so Armie couldn’t see how he looked and locked the suit away, so Armie could not try it on again. He allowed Armie the shoes.  He had told the boutique what it was for and how urgent it was, the suit had arrived the next day together with a voucher for flowers from his favourite florist.  He sent Armie off to the barber, when he came back his hair was a little too short, but he loved the shaved feel of his neck and decided that actually it was hot.  He brushed it upwards, it tickled his fingers, he smiled, kissed Armie’s neck and told him he loved him.

‘I love you too baby.’

The day of their marriage was more poignant than they had imagined it would be, there were tears and laughter, it might be a quick marriage in a dreary local government office, but it still had meaning the celebrant was welcoming and understanding, their parents were happy and sad, sad because they were losing their sons and happy because they had formally gained one in return, the words spoken were not significantly different from hundreds of other couples but still significant because it was their sons saying the words.  They choose Montaigne’s words on friendship and finished with St Augustine not because of his religion but because he also spoke of a friendship based on one soul in two bodies, the words were very apt.  One could not live without the other.  The final stage of this process was the surrogacy, they were nearly done.

 

‘This is like recruiting cabin staff Armie, these are CVs.’

It wasn’t quite as simple as that they were choosing the mothers of their children.  They had decided to use a reproductive centre that had branches across the state, they were recommended to the Palm Springs branch by their doctor.  They shared the same doctor in LA for ease of communication and it meant that if there were any urgent or important information about either of them, there was no worry about who could receive the information, they had waived their rights to privacy in relation to each other, nothing was secret between them.

They had already decided to go for women who looked similar so the children could also share some similar characteristics – it was a given that Timothée’s child was likely to be dark haired it was more important that the other characteristics were similar, above 5’ 6” in height, blonde or brown hair with blonde or brown hair in the family because Armie wanted to be sure that his child would be fair like the rest of his family.  They also agreed that the donors should have grey, green or blue eyes, they wanted both to preserve the light coloured eyes which were on both sides of their family.  Finally, educated to college level at least and a proven success in terms of either bearing children or on donation of eggs.  They were minded about cost as well as genetics, if they had money to spare they might have gone for ‘fresh’ eggs, but frozen were more reliable and the donors were pre-tested, ie they would not have wait for the egs to be produced to find out if the donor was suitable.  They had read of cases where the donor of fresh eggs proved later to be unsuitable either genetically or in temperament, they wanted some security.  They had also asked their parents if there was anything that they should know, something they had to tell the centre to avoid a genetic clash or predisposition which would also create difficulty.  There was an ‘odd’ aunt on Timothée’s side but everyone decided she was eccentric and not mentally challenged, everything was OK.

They were very lucky they found a pair of Jewish sisters from the Mid-West, who were hearty, well-adjusted women with children of their own and who thought they would try to help other families, particularly gay parents as their brother was gay and had recently started his own family. It was a perfect situation and they were perfect donors.  It also meant that the children were blood relations, it was important to both Armie and Timothée.

Next they had to find women who were willing to carry the children, this was an anxious process for them, the women would be carrying their children, they had no intention of embarking on a second round of IVF, it had to be successful straight away.  But against advice and common sense, they asked if the sisters would carry the children as well.  This meant that the insemination had to take place out of state, they ran the risk that the mother could claim the child.  For a week they debated back and forth, Michael had got them someone who could look into the background of the women, nothing was found.  They decided to meet them with lawyers, Michael and Joseph came with them too.  Armie’s study schedule was shot to pieces, he had a lot of time to make up and let Timothée know so there would be less tension in the coming months, he would literally have to study most of his time off a plane.

The women, Sally and Kate, lived in the suburbs of Columbus, Armie, Timothée and their coterie of lawyer Sebastian, and parents travelled as a group on Wednesday morning, arrived late afternoon, had dinner with the families that evening and met formally the next day.  Despite the cost they decided to fly non-stop, they spent one night, and flew back the day of the formal meeting. Armie and Timothée bore all costs

They let the lawyers and their fathers ask most of the questions, Sally’s partner was cautious not unwilling but wanting to find out if Armie and Timothée really wanted to parent, and why they wanted to parent, mostly if they were suitable parents and nice people.  That was the thing, above all the women wanted to be sure that Armie and Timothée would make suitable parents and that they were decent and kind people.  Tentative agreement was made, a cooling off period of a month agreed and in the meantime, promises to message, skype or facetime undertaken. After a tentative start, a lively whatsapp group including all of those present emerged and a private one between the women, Armie and Timothée created a couple of weeks later.  They liked each other, and at the end of month during another long layover, Armie and Timothée spent a week with the families, the lawyer came for a couple of days and a formal agreement was signed. Next was the insemination.  They had already decided that they wanted boys and made sure this was included in the agreement.

Sally was pregnant on first attempt, Armie was very happy as she was his partner in the scheme, Kate took a second attempt with Timothée, six weeks later the insemination took place and later the pregnancy confirmed.  Now they had to wait.  The pregnancies continued without too many scares until Kate developed gestational diabetes in her second trimester, her children had been large on birth being over 8lbs each, she hadn’t been diagnosed previously but this was trait which could lead to diabetes in pregnancy. The diabetes might or might not be a thing to worry about, some mothers didn’t ever get Type Diabetes 2 again, some did.  Timothée worried, it wasn’t only the fear of losing the baby and Kate’s health now and in future, it was the cost, they had used most of the money from the mortgage, they had been generous with payments for the surrogacy and with insurance cover, but this was an additional cost as a premium was now needed to meet the costs of monitoring the diabetes.  Armie was his normal relaxed self.

‘Baby, don’t worry we’ll find the money if we have to, somehow, remember we still have $50,000, if it means increasing the mortgage or getting another loan, so be it.  I think we’ll be OK.’

Timothée stayed silent but stayed worrying.  There was so much to think about.  They had decided not to prepare or buy anything until after the seventh month of the pregnancies, feeling slightly superstitious and wanting to wait until the babies were viable before committing to changing their home.  This of course meant that everything in terms of preparing the house was left to the last moment.  Both of them were working, and not always in California.  Their Moms came to the rescue.  The two single beds were removed and sold on eBay, two cots were bought, and a mountain of baby clothes, baby sheets, covers, socks and hats started arriving. Diapers were bought on subscription. Decals were bought and the walls of what was now the nursery painted a pale blue, grey and soft white, the mothers would not be gainsaid, they were decorating and they would have what they wanted.  They compromised on the colour of the baby clothes, a variety of colours flooded the drawers – pastels, primary colours, stripes and patterns everything fresh and modern in a mixture of sizes to cover all ages and all sizes.  They only assumed that the children would be long and eventually tall, so didn’t bother with first born clothes and went straight to three-six months, purchasing clothes that would take the children to a year knowing that if they followed the height of their respective fathers, then they would be wearing clothes which were sized for babies three months older.  A double stroller was bought, car seats and high chairs followed, the words out of Armie’s mouth were somewhat like:

‘What the fuck! How much?’

This was on hearing how much a good double stroller would cost, at least $800 for one which would last until the babies were around six months.  Stimulating toys, blankets, cloths, bibs, bottles, a warmer, sterilising units and baby food put on order, they only had to press a button and everything they needed would arrive on time and on a schedule.  Amazon.com was their best friend, a never ending series of parcels started arriving.

Now his attention was taken, he started querying everything that was bought, and checked the bank statement every month, he had gone from not caring about cost to monitoring everything assiduously on a spreadsheet. Timothée just laughed.

‘Fucker, wait until they are teenagers, you won’t know what to do with yourself.’

 

At thirty eight weeks, Sally started to have Braxton Hicks, a kind of muscle contraction, not a real contraction.  Armie wasn’t happy.

‘I hope he’s not fucking her.’

Timothée looked up.

‘He’s her husband, she’s had two children already, and I am sure they know what’s dangerous or not.’

For the rest of week Armie was grumpy, he flew out to Melbourne the next day but his face even over Facetime could not hide his annoyance.

‘Shall I tell her not to have sex?’

‘What is the matter with you?’

‘That’s my child and she is busy fucking that man’

‘OK, tell her not to fuck her husband.’

That shut him up.  He spoke to Sylvia.

‘Did you have sex with your husband when you were pregnant?’

‘Of course.’

‘When did you stop?’

‘I had sex on the day the baby came, I had an orgasm just from the dicking, that was unusual, normally takes….’

‘That is too much information.’

‘Well you asked.  How’s Sally?’

‘Fucking her husband.’

‘Oh…She may not be…’

‘So why has she started having those contraction things?’

‘It’s not only related to sex, Armie.  Sometimes it just starts, I had a week of them in the thirty-sixth week and then they stopped.  Don’t worry.’

‘Well I don’t like it…’

‘Armie speak with her, I’m sure everything is OK, she is full-term, the baby can come any time now.’

And that was what he was worrying about.  He was still flying, Timothée had resigned from his post, they had reached the point of no return.  He was now the only breadwinner, he had started to feel responsible and it was weighing heavy with him.  What was going to happen now?


	29. Twenty-Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Family Life.
> 
> This is fiction, I do not know them and as far as I am aware Armie does not know how to fly a plane.

The children were a shock, on Esther’s recommendation they had hired a doula to work with them for six months after the children were born.  The doula came with good recommendations, she had worked with gay couples before and was used to drama and inexperience, it was just as well.

 

Hold his head properly…

What the fuck…why have you woken me?

Why does that child never sleep?

You’re gonna roll on him, get off!

No, we cannot fuck, I’m too tired…

What have you been doing all day?  The place is a mess.

It’s your turn, I got up for them last night…get up!

Why didn’t you take him to the doctor? The boy has diarrhoea…

Why can’t your mother have him, he’s her grandchild, she has done nothing (they did not speak for a week)

This is all your fault…

Whose idea was this?  We haven’t been out for weeks…

Please

No…

Not even a hand job…

I’m too tired…

Did you get the diapers?  No…well you better go right the fuck back out and buy some, there’s none here…

You said you were coming home, where have you been?  You are so selfish…

He’s your child…

You dropped him then you ask the most stupid question, of course he is gonna cry…

Do you think he is going to have a big dick?

Yes, just like his father, it runs in the family (pride is taken in size even at this age)

If it is anything like his father, it will promise much and not deliver which has certainly been the truth for the last month…

Why aren’t they sleeping?

Is it meant to be that colour…consistency…smell like that…

Can I take him in the shower with me…(major side-eye)

How much did that cost?

It’s years since we had sex

It was last week actually, I sat on you and rode you, you woke up, groaned and came, I didn’t realise you were still sleeping

I thought I was dreaming, you fucker (also not speaking for a week)

Why does he need to be vaccinated? 

I am not even going to argue with you on this, they are having every single shot that there is to have, am I clear?

No, he can’t go on a fucking plane, he isn’t well, we’ll have to stay here this time…

That child has his own bed…

He can’t eat that!

Why not, my Mom gave it to me at his age…

Do you think I can have a drink?

You are not breastfeeding, have what you fucking like

These diapers are too small…(a smile)

 

When the babies slept through a whole night, they thought they had cracked it.

Do you think we can manage without the Doula?

They hadn’t.

 

After three months paternity leave, Armie had to go back to work; Timothée was left at home to look after the children.  They did not hire a nanny or night nurse, the decision had been made Timothée was house husband, he stayed at home to look after the children and run their home.  It was difficult at first, there were two children of the similar age and needs to look after, there being only a month between them, he worried about being fair. He had a son and Armie had a son, when it came to feeding and washing he was rigorous in being fair, taking equal turns with the boys, after a while he learned to take the child who needed it most, except Douglas was a calm placid child and Henri volatile and testy.  Both children loved to be held and cossetted the difference was that Henri demanded attention, he would not settle until held close and often fell asleep in Armie’s or Timothée arms before going down for the night.  He was the first to wake up and roar, which initially mean that he was the baby who taken into their bed, leaving poor Douglas to wake on his own and wait for someone to come in to check on him, he wasn’t being actively neglected but having a genial non-assertive nature meant that he did not get his full quota of attention.

Armie and Timothée spoke about it, in an adult way.

‘Either they both come into our bed or they both have to wait until we are ready.’

Armie was clear about what he thought was fair. 

‘We need to evaluate if they are getting fair treatment, Douglas is a bit quiet in comparison to Henri – I can see a time when we may have to discuss appropriate behaviour for now…well…’

Timothée grew anxious, only because he did not want it to seem like he had been unfair.  Armie told him there was no science and he was a good father so he trusted his judgement.

The next morning, they heard Henri start to snuffle, then there were murmurs, then crying.  Through baby monitor the volume of crying increased.  Eventually Douglas joined in.  Timothée waited to see what Armie had to say, Armie was quiet, he didn’t know what to do.  The babies continued to cry, they were not yet one.

‘Shall we go and get them Armie?’

‘Let’s see if they go quiet. Are they in with each other.?

‘Yes.’

The monitor went quiet.  Then Henri did his thing and started wailing, he had a special way of making sure that he got someone to come in and get him.  Douglas obviously shocked, joined in.

Armie got up.

‘I’ll bring them both in.’

Timothée knew he could not manage to lift and carry both of them by himself, he kept quiet.

Armie didn’t return.  The crying stopped.

After twenty minutes, Timothée got up.  When he went into the nursery, both boys were in Armie’s lap, somehow he had got them into each of his arms and they were both on the verge of going back to sleep.  Armie was murmuring quiet nothings to them

‘I have something to tell you…don’t tell Papa…I love you both better than him…I can’t do without you both…I love you more than you’ll ever know…sleep sweetie…ah that’s it baby…have a little rest darlings…’

He started singing softly:

Won't you run come see St. Judy's Comet  
Roll across the skies  
And leave a spray of diamonds  
In its wake  
I long to see St. Judy's Comet  
Sparkle in your eyes  
When you awake

Little boy  
Won't you lay your body down  
Little boy  
Won't you close your weary eyes  
Ain't nothing flashing but the fireflies

Well I sang it once  
And I sang it twice  
I'm going to sing it three times more  
Going to stay til your resistance  
Is overcome  
Cause if I can't sing my boy to sleep  
Well it makes your _pilot_ daddy  
Look so dumb, oh look so dumb…

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kTxCqbfreTA

 

Timothée started crying, he wiped his eyes gently, took Douglas into his arms and sat by Armie’s feet.

‘You don’t know how lucky you are, baby, Pops is the best.’

‘I love you.’

‘I love you baby.’

 

‘Shall we go away without them?’

Armie threw Timothée a look, then he looked uncertain.

‘I don’t know…I feel a bit guilty…like I feel like I am being selfish…they are our babies…who can we leave them with?…I don’t trust anyone...I don’t know…’

‘Armie…don’t be ridiculous. We have two mothers who would break our hands to have them.  It’s over a year since we had a break by ourselves.  It’s a long time since we had any personal time to ourselves, we can’t always be about the babies. I mean I love them but I got to have some real time with you. You’re my lover first and foremost and to be blunt I’d like a good…’

‘OK, OK no need to be vulgar, especially in front of the children.’

‘Armie they do not understand about sex, dicking or fucking, at the moment all they want is cuddles, food, drink, their diapers changed, washing and sleeping, it’s as basic as that.  I need more than the basic and you are not giving it to me.  I want to spend some time with you, and not have to spend it  listening to you baby talk or listening to music or reading on my own. You aren’t here for half the month, I need you and I want you by yourself.  I want spoiling.  You’ve got to spend some time with me, just me.’

 

‘Timmy is complaining.’

‘About what?’

‘He wants some _alone_ time.’

‘Well, I understand that.  When you were young, your father wouldn’t spend _alone_ time with me either.  He was always working and providing.  I had to tell him, I appreciated and loved what he was doing but it wasn’t enough. You were his partner first, now the children are here you still spend the same amount of time away but you spend very little time with him.  I’ve seen you, you are cursory with him.’

Armie was hurt.  He was doing the best he could or thought he could.  He was tired too.  Sex wasn’t important now.  Those days were…he thought for a second…what was he saying?  Was their sex life over?  Fuck.  He tried to remember when he last initiated sex with Timothée, it was a long time.  He tried to remember when they last watched a movie together or just had a drink, lay on the sofa and listened to some music together. Timmy wasn’t wrong.

He sat down. 

‘What do you mean cursory?’

‘Well you take him for granted.  I know he wanted the children as well, but you leave him to do the majority of the work with them and then when you come home he has to tip toe around you, washing your stuff, cooking and cleaning whilst you spoil the babies.  I’ve watched you.  You don’t even know you are doing it.  Michael told me to stay out of your business, but since you raised it, you need to know what I think. Timothée has been very even handed with you, and the babies.  You know how he worries about being fair, and how he wants to make sure that you are looked after and that he doesn’t pay more attention to the babies when you are around.  He thinks this is the way to make you happy.  But you have to realise, a person can only take so much of fatherhood, he is your partner you have to find time to treat him like that as well.  You have to show him that he is still attractive and is not just the main childcare giver in your home.  Also when are you going to finish off your conversion study?  He needs to know when you are going to be spending more time at home. You’ve been putting off the final observation and you have to change jobs or get your base back here in LA.  What’s happening Armie?’

Armie was virtually having palpitations, clearly he hadn’t thought this through.

‘I’ll call you back.’

 

‘Sylvie?’

‘Yes Armie’

‘Can I ask some advice please?’

‘OK, what about?’

‘ermm…well…not sure how to say this…’

‘I’ve got fifteen minutes, then I have to go and pick Phoebe up.  Shoot.’

‘Timothée is not pleased with me.’

‘Why?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Armie you know damn well why he is upset.  What haven’t you done.’

‘…the sex business…how long did it take you to get back to having a normal sex life?’

‘When did you last sleep with him Armie?’

‘I don’t know…wasn’t that long ago’

‘That is your answer.  You can’t even say that he just had the babies as a reason.  Isn’t he attractive?  How would you feel if he started to look for satisfaction elsewhere?’

‘What are you talking about?  He isn’t going to leave me. He doesn’t want to have sex with someone else.’

‘He doesn’t have to leave you to get sexual satisfaction.  Does he masturbate?  Have you got toys? Do you even know if he is self-satisfying? Have you asked him if he’d like to have sex?  How much time do you spend with each other without the children?  Even if it’s just in the evening after they have gone to sleep. Let me ask you, do you spend time in the evening just chatting, spending time in each other’s company?

I admit it was a few months after Phoebe was born that we had sex again, but once we started,  I tried to make sure that we slept together at least once a week, and if we didn’t then I did something nice for him.  You haven’t got that excuse though. The only excuse you have is tiredness and that is not a valid excuse.’

The palpitations started again, Armie remembered what he did when he came home. His first instinct was to go to his son, his second to pick up Henri.  He treated them equitably, neither child got more attention than the other.  He sat with one or the other until Timothée bought him some food, he put them in their walkers or down in their respective high chairs, watched them and talked with them while he ate and then sat with one or the other in his arms until it was time for bed.  This was repeated the next day, he took over the day care after breakfast which Timothée normally cooked and then handed over all the house work and other family related tasks to Timothée.  Just as his mother had described.  Why was he so stupid?

‘OK, thanks Sylvie, I’m a bit slow sometimes at recognising what he needs.’

‘But why do you wait until it is a problem, come on Armie, open your eyes.  Ask him.  Pay attention, put him first for a while, the children won’t suffer, so long as they have their basic needs met, they’ll be fine. Let the Grands have them for a little while, take him away spoil him, sex him, make him feel like you appreciate everything he does for you all. Do you want to give me a call later?  I have to go now, but I can talk later…’

‘Thanks Sylvie, thanks.  I’ll call you anon.’

 

Armie got to work he only had four days with his family now, but when he got off the phone he looked around him.  The house was spotless, all the baby stuff was stored out of sight in what was now the family room formerly called the Yellow room.  There was nothing to do except talk with Timothée. The second sitting room had somehow become the room where they spent the most time, it had glass sliding doors out to the small garden on the side of the house, big enough for two three seater sofas, the room now had a flat screen tv on a TV bench so that anyone in the house large or small could watch.  The babies couldn’t watch but when Timothée was feeding or petting them he wanted to be able to look straight on rather than up, there was a wooden box with all the baby goods, diapers, wet-wipes, cream, change of clothing, cotton squares, some toys and blankets for the floor, these were contained in internal storage boxes bought from IKEA or a large baby bag of many pockets.  All the modern media and IT trickets had gone. Timothée had thought of everything, he hadn’t noticed just taken it for granted.  In the corner of the room were two walkers, he didn’t really approve, they were not recommended but they gave Timothée some confidence to leave the babies and give them some freedom or independence.  If he had something he had to do they were always within his sight and he never let them have more than ten or fifteen minutes in them.  The babies loved them, their little legs propelling them around the room, they were holding on and standing, and getting ready to walk, they would scoot around this room and the entry hall, laughing and giggling with each other. Also in this corner were two tiny chairs for them sit down, they didn’t really use them but Timothée thought they were cute and bought them in preparation.  The room had been thoroughly refurbished, Timothée had themed the room blue with accents of red, grey and white, he had also bought some cheapish prints whilst at IKEA and these made the room lively.

Armie sat down, he was feeling overwhelmed, he got up and went into the kitchen, opened the fridge as well as bottles of milk there was food he liked, fresh vegetables, an organic chicken, cheeses and biscuits for their dinner later and two steaks for the next day all delivered from Whole Foods.  He opened a freezer drawer, it was full of home cooked food in portions ready for defrosting. Timothée was very well prepared.  He liked to eat well and he liked to make sure his family ate well and got the best food they could afford.  He was thrifty, nothing was wasted, Armie knew that the chicken carcase would be picked bare and the bones made into soup, to which he would add the pieces of leftover chicken, herbs, potatoes, noodles and carrots, which he fed the children and himself during the weeks when Armie wasn’t around.  Armie hated chicken soup he thought it was Jewish plebeian food. Timothée forced him to taste it once.  He liked it but would not take more than a spoonful on principle.  He made the children’s food, they ate what the adults ate, it was just blended down for them, the only time they didn’t eat adult food was if it was extra spicy or rich.

He didn’t need to walk into any of the other rooms, he knew they were perfect too.

The outside main door opened.  He heard Timothée call his name, he was back in the family room sitting forlornly on one of the sofas.

‘Hey, we just went for a walk.  It’s beautiful outside.  You should have come with us.’ 

Timothée put the brake on the double stroller, the babies were bright cheeked and eyed.  It was just turning into Autumn, not cold enough for a proper coat not warm enough for t-shirts, he had dressed them in thick woollen jerseys, a long sleeved t-shirt underneath and long trousers with soft shoes and socks, the stroller had a cover for their legs, the babies was topped with little woollen hats.  They looked cosy. He started with Douglas and started to divest him of hat, jersey and shoes, laid him on the rug where he proceeded to crawl to his Pops who held his hands out to him.  And then started on Henri, who he brought into his lap as he sat beside Armie, both men held their children and settled on a sofa, the one looking out into the garden, which was just beginning to slow down for ready for Autumn.

‘What’s the matter?’

Armie couldn’t speak. And then it came tumbling out.

‘Are you happy Timothée?’

‘Of course.’

‘I’ve been selfish.’

‘What’s new?…That’s a joke baby.  What’s the matter?’

‘You do so much for us.  I never really noticed or realised.  I breeze in and out, when I get here the house is spotless, the children look well and happy.  I don’t have to do anything, I just come in and you look after me and I haven’t been looking after you.  I took you for granted.  I just…I just…when the babies came we had so much learn and to do and we got on with it and it all started working and everything fell into place, but I kind of forgot you.  You became family and the family is us four but I didn’t see you as a separate person, and I’m sorry.  We talk but it is all about the babies or what happened to me and even when we FaceTime you put the babies on and I ask you about your day but you only talk about the babies.  When did you really get some time for yourself baby?  What about your writing, when did you last get a chance to write? We need to get back some of our _me_ time, when did we last eat a nice dinner that you didn’t cook, when did we last fuck, not just a quickie?  When was the last time we really made love?  When did we last spend a good amount of time outside the house, when? I’m sorry.  We’ve got to talk about this, do something about it. I feel so close to you, I love this, I love our family, I just need to pull you out of overall picture, give you some separate attention, show you how much I appreciate what you do for us. I need your help to work this out, you have to tell me, I’m dense sometimes, tell me.’

Timothée went into one of his old modes, slight anxious, silent withdrawn words formless thoughts held back rush forward, he took his time, gathered himself mentally and emotionally and spoke.

‘I was waiting for you Armie, I know you.  I understand.  I waited because I know you need the time to come to terms with changes in your life, you are not a person who adapts easily.  We’ve been together more than five years, I still haven’t got to the bottom of you and I hope I never do.  Never mind about the sex, it isn’t the sex that’s important it’s what it means. If we are going to talk about it, this is what it means to me. I love to have your skin on mine, I love when you move me around in bed to get what you want from me, I love when you are inside me.  I miss that, because that is when I know how much I mean to you, because you lose yourself when you are that physically close to me I get the pure Armie the one who is completely free, when you make love to me or when you fuck me that is unadulterated Armie, the one I recognised on that plane.  If I feel deprived, that is what I am deprived of, that animalist base Armie, do you understand?  The family stuff is another life, we have many different lives running parallel, you know that don’t you?  All of our relationships past and present are parallel lives, we do what is appropriate for those people, they bleed into each other but they are separate and we need all of them to be whole.  That is what I am talking about, and that is what I want you to acknowledge.  We can’t be all about the babies, it’s time to move onto the next stage of our lives and that means going back and rediscovering ourselves, we have a new shape but we are essentially the same, my old fuckbuddy is still in there I want him back.’

Armie kissed him and kissed him, he couldn’t remember when he actually lusted after Timothée, he took his time, the babies looked on at their parents and started giggling. They brought their fathers into focus.  It was indeed time for a change.

 

For the following week, when Armie returned from his flight to Melbourne, he had booked a long weekend in Palm Springs at The Willows, minus children.  They were collected by Belle and Esther who planned to spend the time in Las Vegas together, they were joined by their husbands, all the epitome of doting grandparents.  They were delighted and pleased beyond measure to finally get their hands on the babies without interference from Timothée who was as possessive with the children as Armie had been with him.  The children were collected on Thursday afternoon, Timothée and Armie drove to Palm Springs arriving in time for dinner.

‘You better take your time with me, it’s been a while.’

‘You can fuck _me_ if you want.’

Timothée’s eyes started the long familiar but not recent glistening, he had to stifle a giggle, he was getting too old for that shit now, instead he placed his hand on Armie’s thigh, they were sitting alongside each other, the tablecloth covered a multitude of sins, and started stroking.

‘Can you take the dick Armie, it’s been a while for you too.’

‘I’ve been practising…’

‘What the fuck…what have you been doing?’

Armie waggled the eyebrow.

‘Eat your dinner. You’ll soon find out.’

After dinner they went back up to the suite, Armie had splashed out and booked the best suite with a two-person claw foot tub, separate shower, a mountain view and a king sized bed. He’d been lucky, he’d rung just after a cancellation and he even got a discounted price as the previous booking had been pre-paid by a film company who longer needed it.  Armie had arranged for certain things to be left in the room whilst they were eating, a bottle of champagne, some of Timothée’s favourite flowers (he didn’t care how they got them, they were white lilies and out of season), and a bottle of tequila.

The first thing they did was FaceTime with the grandparents and babies, all was well, the babies had initially missed Papa and Pops and took a little while to go down, but were now fast asleep and lying together nose to tail in a cot which Esther had resurrected from somewhere.  Reassured, Armie and Timothée resumed their weekend, they would call again in the morning.

 

‘You know why you can’t be called _Daddy_ , don’t you baby?’

‘No.’  Armie gave Timothée a very sly look. ‘Tell me.’

‘I’ll show you.’

They closed in on each other, it was a long time since they gave in to their lust.  It felt familiar yet strange, they sat down – this was new, like a first time but with the added advantage of knowing what the other wanted.  Armie put his arm around Timothée, and Timothée put his hand on Armie’s thigh. They pulled in and kissed, a gentle kiss hello, a kiss to say what now, a look to check everything was OK.  Armie pulled off his sweater, he had a white Calvin Klein t-shirt underneath, it fit him perfectly.  Timothée gasped as if seeing him for the first time, the muscles in Armie’s arms and body rippled, he had kept up a lacklustre training regime but every time he restarted the body remembered and quickly snapped back into shape. He was spare, and had been keeping the weight off with a careful diet helped by Timothée’s home cooking and a reduction in alcohol.  Timothée remained slim, no longer slender, he looked better for a little flesh. Armie pressed his softness, he missed the hard lines of Timothée’s body, he had liked it when he felt bone under skin, the fragility of a body, the fear of breaking something something precious, the contrast of that fear and his sexual hunger, a desire so strong he could not help himself but possess that body, it turned him on.

He undid Timothée’s shirt and licked his nipple, sucking it into his mouth, both groaned.  Timothée slipped a hand under Armie’s shirt and started to caress his body, trying to fix a memory, a mole between two ribs at the back, a birthmark on his shoulder, tanned glowing skin, hair now turning less silky as it turned silver.  He turned his face towards Armie again, a request for another kiss, they lay down removing tops, trousers, shoes and socks, only boxers remaining to separate their skin.  They made out for a while, hands delved, nails dragged across buttock, mouths sucked on skin and tongues. Grooves in each neck became pathways of torture as tongues slicked and pressed, not enough and too much to bear. Armie put his hand into Timothée’s boxers, he felt his stiff cock and squeezed it hard. Timothée’s mouth fell open, his intake of breath deep.  Armie didn’t ask he started taking.

Pulled the boxers off, Timothée was now naked and shy, it had been a long time.  Armie’s eyes turned dark like thunder, he was gone under and gone over to lust. He pushed Timothée down onto his stomach, across the bed.

‘Raise your ass.’

He licked from ball to hole, then he swiped, then he bit.

‘Fuck.’

He caressed Timothée ass, spread his hands and split Timothée open, his pink hole was like a good friend to Armie, he made a guttural sound deep in his throat, he remembered how he loved that ass, he wanted it in his mouth.  He licked the soft flesh, tasted it in his mouth, yes this was his, he remembered now why he was so possessive, he held him open for a moment and blew into Timothée who gasped and clenched. Armie licked the circle of pink ruffled skin, sucking, tasting  remembering how to fulfil Timothée’s ultimate desire, his ultimate pleasure, shaped his tongue, dove in and started thrusting. Timothée buckled and started collapsing, it was too good.

‘Keep still you fucker, I’m trying to fuck you.’

Timothée was moaning inconsolably, he couldn’t keep still, his body was a wave of pleasure.

‘Armie, Armie…Jesus…oh my god…don’t stop…oh fuck…’ a series of swear words, professions of love and repetitions of _Armie_ continued whilst Armie continued to use his mouth, lips and tongue to pleasure him.  Timothée tried to put his hand on his dick, he didn’t know what to do with himself, Armie slapped it away.

‘You don’t touch yourself, only I can touch you, lift your hips.’

Armie lay beneath him, mouth open to receive and motioned Timothee to move directly above him. Timothée spread his legs either side of Armie, and raised himself on his arms alternating with his elbows, at first slowly dipping his cock into Armie’s mouth, his peachy ass tensing, rising and falling.

As Timothée’s dick grew hard and taut he increased speed and depth, just as he would before he came.  Armie stilled him and pulled the hard cock into his mouth sucking it down into his mouth as far as he could, he gave himself time, worked up some saliva and opened his throat and allowed Timothée to deeply place his cock in his mouth. He reached out an arm and held him in position all the while closing his throat and forming his mouth around Timmy’s dick. He pulled off, producing a deep sucking saliva slurping friction bursting sensation. Then he placed his lips against the ridge of Timothée’s cock, rhythmically pulling, pressing and pursing the dick, his mouth a sensual pleasure. Timothée was voiceless and immobile above him, Armie feared he would fall down in ecstasy. He touched him to bring him back.

‘Get on your back.’

He swathed his tongue, gently used his teeth, spat on the dick, licked it off and used the flesh of his mouth to experience the cock in all ways, carried on using his mouth, licking, sucking it in, drawing it deep into his mouth again. Timmy was grunting and moaning, he managed to get some words out.

‘I’m gonna cum baby.’

He made a noise deep in his throat, somewhere near growling as the wave of orgasm pushed itself through his ass and down his dick.

Armie pulled off a little to give himself room for the cum to splash around his mouth and to squeeze all he could from Timothée, he looked up and held eye contact as he swallowed, opened his mouth for Timmy to see, swallowed the final content, licked and sucked everything…everything clean. Timothée lay down, arm over his eyes, he was breathless, his chest rising and falling rapid, his pulse was running down his back and below his dick, he was useless…senseless for a while, the climax had been intense, it had been a while since he had had such a deep orgasm, so deep in his body, he raised his knees and opened his legs to lengthen the experience. Armie could not resist, he began gently licking his balls and groin, Timothée’s dick was brushing Armie’s face, Armie opened his mouth and began to suck again, eventually Timothée pushed him off too sensitive to take any more.

‘Stop now baby, that’s a bit too much.’

‘OK darling, what do you want?’

‘Can you just hold me.’

And Armie did.  They fell asleep.

 

The next morning, Timothée started complaining on waking, an old refrain.

‘My legs hurt, you fucker.  Why can’t you fuck me properly.’

He got up, and walked gingerly to the bathroom. Armie watched him as he left the room, he was rolling that ass, Armie wanted to fuck it.  When he returned Armie spoke.

‘Come here. I’m happy to oblige.’

Timothée opened his mouth to carry on complaining but had to shut up.

‘I’m hard.  Your ass is…I’d forgotten how much I want you’

Timothée got back into bed, and felt Armie, who was indeed hard.

‘Have you been to the bathroom already?

‘Yes and brushed my teeth, and I FaceTimed the parents and babies, they’re fine. Now let’s get back to business, have you brushed your teeth?’

‘Yes.’

‘Good, come here.  Let me show you how much I want you.’

Armie lifted one of Timothée’s leg, hooked it over his arm and placed the tip of his cock against Timothée’s hole.  He used his knees and elbows to position himself and hold Timothée open, then began to gently press himself into Timothée who lay back and let him and then raised his head and arms for a kiss.  They settled into a comfortable position, deep slow kissing, Timothée brushing Armie’s back with his finger tips and caressing his shoulders, Armie continuing to hold the leg, hooking and pressing it back towards the bed, making Timothée’s body further open up to him.

‘I love you baby.’

‘I know Timothée, what do you want babe? Rough or smooth?’

‘Soft please, make love to me baby…Are you sure the babies are alright’

‘Yes. Now shut up.’

Armie began to roll his ass, it was familiar. Timothée’s body remembered how they used to make love, it opened like a flower, ready to receive the lover who had returned to him.  Armie flexed his back, his ass softly pressing his cock in and out of Timothée’s body, he continued talking to Timothée determined to give him anything he wanted sexually.

‘Do you like this baby?’

‘Yes…urghh…Armie…’

Timothée’s face glazed over, his eyes shot through blue to hazel to brown; the light in the room was soft, at certain times depending on light and mood, his eyes were green and then gold, when he made love with Armie they had a way of showing brown.

‘Open your eyes baby, I like to look at them, they tell me how you are feeling, where you are.’

Armie continued to roll his hips, he was far from orgasm he wanted to last as long as possible without hurting or stressing Timothée.

‘You got to tell me when you want me to stop baby, is it still comfortable, are you enjoying this? Tell me baby.

‘This is good…’

Armie started kissing Timothée.

Timothée pulled his mouth away.

‘Did they take the milk?’

‘What…’

Armie stopped having sex with his husband.

‘Yes, they had the milk and some baby cereal. Esther is driving out to the mall for diapers. Now stop…’  He dipped his head to kiss those soft lips, his eyes were drawn to them.  The lips resumed talking about babies.

‘Didn’t we pack enough?’

‘Timothée…Yes we did, but she is trying to do us a favour…she thinks she can help…She’s going to try out some different ones as she thinks Douglas is allergic to the diapers, he gets a rash so she thinks he has sensitive skin.’

Timothée began to fret, he rolled up and off Armie and leant against the pillows.

‘She doesn’t think I’ve done a good job?  Does she really think I don’t check his diaper? Is he still sore? He was healing.’

‘Timothée, he is not sore.  The rash has healed. His backside has not been red for two weeks.  Esther just wants to help.  She did not criticise you. She just wants to buy us something.’

‘Perhaps I should ring her…’

He rolled over and got his phone from the bedside table, before Armie could stop him he called, and said: ‘I’m not going to FaceTime…Hi Mom, how are the babies?’, and proceeded to double check everything Armie had said.

‘Do you want to speak with him?

Armie gave him a look of no return.

‘Oh…he’s just left the room.  I’ll get him to call you later.  Bye Mom, give the boys a kiss for me please, bye, bye, bye.

Armie took the phone and threw it across the room. Broken glass sounded.

‘Temper…Do you want to carry on where we left off...’

‘No.  I’m not in the mood.’  Armie’ dick had softened, he was annoyed, it shrunk further into his body.

‘What’s the matter?  Come on baby, let’s do it…look, I’m getting hard for you.  Please Armie, please, my ass is calling for you.’

‘It wasn’t calling for me a minute ago, your fucking mouth was running the show.’

‘Oh, so I am not supposed to care about the babies?’

‘The babies are fine.  You did not need to double-check everything I told you. Am I not capable of relaying details about our children.  Don’t you trust me?’

Armie got up, he was deflated. He pulled on a pair of jeans, the sweater from the night before and pushed his feet into the deck shoes he had worn on the way up.

‘Oh come on, who said anything about not trusting…I was just…’

‘Fuck Off.’  Armie left the room.

Armie had taken nothing with him, Timothée didn’t feel like leaving the room, hung the ‘do not disturb’ sign, went back to bed and slept.  When he woke Armie was seated in a chair and reading a book.  It was noon.

‘Want some lunch?’

‘Yes…so you are talking to me?’

‘Of course I am talking to you, I just wanted to get away before I said something shitty.  Timothée…we came here to get a short break, to have a break from the babies, to fuck, to be ourselves, to enjoy ourselves and have fun.  Look I know all that is not entirely possible, we are in a very different place from even a year ago.  But, I want to treat you to a weekend where I can spoil you.  If this is going to work, you have to trust me…wait, let me talk…if you want me to take responsibility you have stop taking responsibility.  I told you the children were alright, I told you Esther was fine and she was only making a suggestion.  That has to be enough and if it isn’t enough you have to be able to let go enough to check your fears in and speak with Esther after we had made love. That’s all I want to say.’

‘OK, you’ve had your say. Let me speak. I can’t help it.  I am with them most of the time, if there is anything wrong with them I’m the one that takes care of it, I’m the one that goes to the doctor with them, I wipe their asses and clear up their sick.  I look after all of you. I feel responsible I can’t help it and I can’t stop now.  This is an interlude for you, I can’t switch it on and off.  It’s there all the time now Armie, this is our life, this is how it is.’

Armie went over to Timothée and sat on the bed.  He began to explain.

‘I’m only asking that you switch off for an hour, that’s all.  I knew you were going to ring Esther, but give me a break, you basically got off my dick to go and check what I had told you.  How do you think that feels?  I come home and everything is organised, I daren’t touch anything because it is all so perfect, so clean so tidy.  I come in with my big clumsy self and I am the odd one out.  It takes the children two days to come to me without them shying away or crying when I pick them up.  How do you think that feels, I am their father and I am treated like a stranger by all of you when I come back home. How do you think that feels? I give you details of how they are and you ignore me and go and check for yourself.  How would you feel?’

The room turned cold and silent.  Both men looked away from each other, it was uncomfortable.

‘It’s hard for me Timmy, I have to go away and earn the money that allows us all to live like this.  I love my job and I love you and I love the children, but give me a break. I want to indulge you, this is as much for me as it is for you.  Do you understand that?’

Timothée didn’t.

‘Where did the stuff about your job come into it?’

Armie realised he might have escalated a small fear into a potential catastrophe. He opened his mouth to speak and thought better, composed a thought and voiced it.

‘I’m just trying to explain why I feel like I feel and why I said it.’

‘Best to shut up.  You are just making things worse, it’s simple – I feel responsible. It’s your job to reassure me that this is not unreasonable and that it is OK for me to check things for myself.’

‘I just told you that!  Listen to me, I have other fears as well, I just told you how I feel when I come home, it’s your job to reassure me and show you trust me.’

‘Come on baby we are just going round in circles, and anyway I knew all that stuff about feeling inferior when you come home, you are transparent Armie – I know you and I know how you feel about things like that.  I thought it would be best to not make a thing of it because at the end of the day, it is what it is, you work away from home.  That is a fact and something we cannot change, I don’t want you to change, and if you want to carry on in that field, wake up, you cannot go away for a week at a time and come back and expect the babies to just pick up where you left them.  They are not emotionally mature enough to deal with that, is _that_ clear? They know who you are, you show them you love them (more than you love me or show me you love me), you will just have to wait for them to grow into themselves and realise that just because you are not around doesn’t mean that you aren’t coming back. That is why you have impose yourself on them when you come back, they literally are not sure who you are, you are not a constant fixture.  When they get a little older, they will realise that your leaving is temporary, they don’t know this now.  This is how it works, so be prepared for the children to give no fucks, they cannot tell you how they feel, they can only show you.  You are the fucking adult, grow up.’

Armie took a moment to take this on board, he gazed on Timothée as if he was the oracle.  He had more he had to say, the deal with the children had been addressed, he had other concerns.

‘Timothée, if you notice me being tentative, and it recurs for similar situations then you have to tell me.  I didn’t know that you _saw_ me.  Baby this is how we have always been, we _see_ each other, we _understand_ each other – it’s taken time to get here again.  I trust you to tell me when I am worrying unnecessarily.  I am not home all the time, so when I come home it’s difficult to adjust, not just me but for you three – it feels like you are all ganging up on me.’

‘Don’t be stupid, how can the babies gang up on you?’

Armie felt like crying. Almost silently, he spoke.

‘I know it’s stupid, but I can’t help it, when I come home I expect you all to have missed me like I miss you.  I miss you all like crazy, it’s hard for me the first night I’m away I can’t sleep properly, I miss you physically just having you around me, and I miss the babies.  When I come home, they have grown or they are doing something new and I’ve missed out.  All the time missing out, that is how it feels.  I come home and everything has a routine and a place and I don’t fit, I have to learn how to fit in, how to behave again.’  There was water in his eyes, he turned away, he felt foolish and selfish.

The pair sat there anxious in their own way, the normally confident and ebullient Armie realising that he had to learn how to be in a family, not the centre of attention. Timothée who was living a fulfilling, satisfying and full life had to accept that he resented Armie’s freedom, he resented his intrusion into their routine.  When Armie came home he threw himself around, he tossed the children into the air, he kept them up beyond their bedtime so they could get used to him and then slept in the next day leaving Timothée to settle, wash, feed and dress cranky children.  But he also recognised that while he criticised Armie for being more free, the children loved being in his arms he didn’t care about routines, he just thought things would work out, no need to prepare and he was broadly right , he could learn something from that maybe, maybe but he also knew the babies needed routine, they needed a full night’s sleep _and_ they needed their Pops.

‘OK…’

‘OK…what does that mean Timothée?

‘We have both been selfish in our way.  I have to let go.  I have to, well stop being so possessive of the babies and wanting to run things my way.  You…you have to get with programme.  The babies need routine, they won’t love you less if they go to bed at their normal times.  You have to get up in the mornings and wash and feed them when you come home you can’t leave all the basic childcare and housework to me.  I know you want a rest, but I need one too.  You have to give me at least two days off when you are home for a week, if you are only back for a few days then you have to share all of the work, all of it.’

Armie remembered what his Mom said, he had the grace to blush.

‘Belle spoke to you didn’t she?’

‘Yes.’  Armie felt ashamed.

‘Look baby, I love you, I know you…this is going to be hard but it will be worth it.  Don’t complain about us ignoring you, you have to get right into the routine when you get home, we can have days that are not routine but not three or four days straight because it takes me another week to get them right after you have gone, you are too much excitement.’

Timothée put his hand straight onto Armie’s dick.

‘Now fuck me, I have nothing else to say.’

Armie turned a pair of soft eyes on his lover, his husband and father to his children.  Timothée was all things to him, He gently shook his head.

‘I don’t deserve you.’

It finally dawned on Armie that Timothée was more to him than he had ever been to himself, because when Timothée became Armie and Armie became Timothée, locked in love found in sex, he was and would forever remain, long after every forked road in life had done its work, his brother, his friend, his father, his son, his husband, his lover, his self.

He had no need of anyone else, the children were bonus.


	30. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘To my daughter I will say, when men come, set yourself on fire.’  
> \- Warsan Shire
> 
> These words I think say everything about these two, a fire sometimes comes unbidden and at other times has to be worked for, set and made. There is always fire underneath their feelings and somehow it always comes right. Life is journey and fire is needed for life, desire and the will to live must have heat to be real and to be fully realised.
> 
>  
> 
> This is fiction, I do not know them and as far as I know Armie does not know how to fly a plane.

Two men standing in front of a Rabbi, one fair with lines of silver a tall and steadfast presence holding his hand a small boy in traditional boys clothes a complementary blue to his father's dark navy, dark silver threads of embroidery running across his strong back.  By his side a slighter figure as dark as he was fair in the sunlight which fell across them both in the garden of the house they lived in and in his hair shone dark caramel, copper and bitter chocolate. He held a small boy with black hair whose eyes shone a fiery hazel. The child on the other side was also brown haired this time a very dark blonde, the sun shining blonde through his brown hair, his eyes a clear navy passed down from his father who had companion cornflower blue to match.  The Rabbi started the service. Some nerves were felt by each they had now completion, on their relationship and their family. Before the birth of their boys they had married in the Los Angeles county registrar's office and Timothée had become a Hammer. Months later, a grandchild on each side was born, Douglas and Henri were given family names and it was agreed that a common birthday would be celebrated to meld the two boys in friendship and brotherhood.  They were already cousins and their mothers sat proudly in the congregation.  Now their fathers were re-confirming their marriage in front of all the family. There were tears in all eyes.

The Rabbi opened the service:

‘We are here to celebrate the love between these two men who stand before us all confirming their intention to spend the rest of their lives in love and harmony.  It is a time when love regardless of gender can be celebrated with joy, they are joined in this by their sons who will receive the blessing through this marriage which shows how much they were wanted and how much the wider family is involved in rearing two boys who will go forward into the future as a representation of the love shown here today.  It not just a public celebration, it is private we are honoured to witness their proclamation to each other…it is not often that I see how well matched a couple they are.  They show appreciation of each other and of the children in a way which demonstrates how much of a family they already are. They are complementary in mood and manner, able to take turns to look out for and care for each other.  We are now present in their company for them to put into their own word their expression and love and commitment. I now ask Timothée to speak his vows, the words which will form the vows of their marriage, Timothée:

‘I’m a little nervous, here baby.’

Armie takes Henri, Armie’s mother takes Douglas, Henri starts crying and Armie has to kiss and shush him, eventually he settles, his little fingers holding onto Armie’s neck.  Armie breathes him in, he loves the smell of both his children.  Meanwhile Timothée has pulled a crumpled piece of paper from a trouser pocket. He apologises.

‘The baby started to eat it. (People laugh), he said it looks like milk.  Anyway, I stole some of this from a poet called Warsan Shire…this is Warsan Shire, her words are about love:

"When I love, I love: wholly, thoroughly, completely, drowning in everything. Every glance can be a conversation, eyes just playing and saying what needs to be said. Silence is loud, and the air becomes heavy. I want you. I want all of you."

I have never stopped wanting you Armie, in times when we are or were apart and even when you sit a room just next to me, I miss and want you.  I love you Armie.  I shall care for you in times of trouble and strife.  I will make your way easy and protect you from danger, whatever I have I share willingly with you, and will look after you in time of illness or personal distress.  Our children will be our future, their growing will be our present, the time when we have to live in the moment. Their future is something we are building now for others to share.

There are things I have to tell you all about how I feel about you.  In these children I see you, I see how you reflect your values and beliefs in their care and upbringing.’

Timothée abandoned the piece of paper. 

‘I have to say the relationship I have with Armie is like nothing I have ever had with anyone else, I got so lucky meeting Armie through our work, he was so open to new experience, to accepting different values and dealing with a variety of people, he knows how to guide the team on board a plane, he has the innate experience of knowing instinctively how to deal with everyone (and me, I wasn’t easy…) I appreciated that and I see it in how he leads our family, he steers us through our troubles insignificant and major, beyond that and I always say this, the man that this man is, is a roadmap for the ideal partner and father, I felt this way when I met him, I felt this way when I worked with him and I feel this way about him now, I am all the better for knowing and living with him, I see, witness and experience his humanity, and his loving fatherhood; he is a resolute partner and someone who I treasure beyond anything I can quantify and I promise to dedicate my life to loving him – he is my lover first and my husband foremost, Armie.’

There was a pause in the room, hearts were holding onto Timothée’s words, many had never had the deep love that was evident in the words and how they were spoken.  Armie and Timothée were locked onto each other whilst Timothée spoke, everyone felt that they had witnessing something unworldly, they were superfluous an audience watching something they could never experience.

The Rabbi asked Armie to says his words, ‘Armie please speak your vows, Timothée that was beautiful:

Esther took Henri from Armie, Armie turned to face Timothée, Timothée looked closely into Armie’s eyes, he smiled back in re-assurance, the smile said, you are my person, I hold you dear, do not be afraid to say the words close to your heart.  There was a collective sigh as Armie hesitated and spoke the words he had chosen to memorise.

‘I am a little intimidated, Timothée is much better than me with words, I have come late to showing appreciation of my partner. He has taught me many things including how to be free in my expression of love, for him, and the children have taught me that routine is for fools.  Joining the two things together has meant that I can separate out the important from the trivial, I know where my priorities are now and they all concern the wellbeing of Timothée and the children.  I should say Timothée came before the children, so he will always be my first and primary love, I know some will feel that I should put the children first, I can’t.  I can’t.  It’s as simple as that.  I love and desire him as much as in those early heady days. I can’t better the words he spoke and so repeat them.

I love you Timothée.  I shall care for you in times of trouble and strife.  I will make your way easy and protect you from danger, whatever I have I share willingly with you, and will look after you in time of illness or personal distress.  Our children will be our future, their growing will be our present, the time when we have to live in the moment. Their future is something we are building now for others to share.

Timothée has a sometimes turbulent sea of emotions inside of him, each one of those emotions  somehow chaotic and also completely is at one with his demeanour and personality — ready to be unleashed on me in love and with love.  He is like mercury, I come home and it is always with pleasure because like a river flowing, I can never say that I have experienced the same love twice, there is always something new and fresh, it is delightful. I see how he prepares the children for dealing with life, he shows them how hard it can be but also how much love there is and that that love is formless and incapable of being defined or captured; and mostly that love is a thing beyond all understanding, and always worth any pain if you are certain it is worth it.  He has always believed that we should be and were mean to be, and it took me time to trust him on this…he rewarded my trust in him with a pure and transparent love, he has no side, he is my lover first and my husband foremost, Timothée.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thoroughly enjoyed this journey. A shout out to everyone who commented.. Keep the comments coming, it is very encouraging to get them. 
> 
> \- And thanks to everyone who took time to read this story, and waited patiently for updates. I ain't finished yet, keep an eye out...


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